Feet That Iron Never Shod
by Tittamiire
Summary: An AU from the moment in Emancipation where Sam is re-captured by Thurgan. She fights back and things get interesting as each event seems to take her further away from home. No pairing, but you could see it as Sam and Jack shippy if you squint.
1. Chapter 1

Turghan looked down at her, disbelief mixing with the anger visible on his face.

'What kind of women are you?' He spat, 'Do you respect nothing? Care for no one but yourself? These were responsible for you. Now, because of you, they will be punished.'

The woman near his side turned and knelt near him, obedient to a fault. The gesture made Sam's stomach turn, but not as much as when Turghan tore her dress open with a knife and raised the whip.

'No! It was my fault. If you need to beat a women to feel like a man, try me!' Sam lifted her voice, looking Turghan in the eye.

Turghan looked almost pleased when he responded, though his tone was still bitter.

'I value spirit in my horses, not my women,' he informed her, thankfully switching his attention from the other woman.

He stepped towards her and grabbed her hair and it took all of Sam's willpower not to kick out at him when he leant in, no matter how futile it would have been while her hands were tied behind her back. He stank of unwashed human, sweat, blood and milk and she held her breath when he kissed her.

'You belong to me, you will learn your place, and be obedient. You will suffer far worse then a beating.'

He pushed her onto her knees on the floor of the yurt and gestured to one of the younger men standing around the edge.

The man stepped towards Sam. He was young, still in his adolescence and he was almost gentle when he unbound Sam's hands from behind her, though he was careful to keep the knife at his waist out of her reach. He retied her hands in front of her and stepped neatly away. Sam had heard Turghan pacing behind her throughout, until the youth returned to his initial spot in front of Sam with his hands clasped behind him. Sam kept her eyes fixed on the pommel of the youth's knife as Turghan grabbed hold of her shoulder in order to pull the dress from her back.

It wasn't going to happen.

Sam clasped both hands together in a double fist and drove her left elbow over her shoulder into the side of Turghan's head. She pulled at her bonds and found that the ropes fell away. The youth had not tied them properly and to make matters worse for him Sam managed to grab his knife from his waist before he could stop her. He cried out, but Sam was already struggling to her feet and throwing away the rope.

Turghan recovered, the blow had not been that strong, but now Sam had both hands free and a knife in one of them, even if her movement was hindered by the dress she was wearing. She felt hands grab her but Turghan waved them away with a twisted smile and a gesture from his knife.

'Let her fight. I will show this woman her place.'

Sam shifted the grip on the unfamiliar knife and waited for Turghan to move. He didn't disappoint as he shifted his feet and then lunged at her with his blade. She dodged it, moving around the confined space within the yurt and keeping him in her peripheral vision. He recovered quickly and came after her, but Sam was a little more prepared this time. She span suddenly, ducking and kicking a leg between his and causing him to stumble, but it bought her little time and there was no where to go. Turghan caught himself with the hand holding the knife and struck out at her with the other, catching her on the side of the head. She pulled back, but Turghan was already up and swiping at her with his knife. Sam ducked and dodged back. The knife caught her once, it's tip scoring a line of pain down her side, but she saw her moment when he was over-extended. She ducked quickly and shoved her knife under his arm, finding soft flesh in his side all too tenuously before his fist caught her in the face again. She twisted away from the knife blade and stumbled over the dress, tumbling to the floor of the yurt. Turghan paused for a moment of satisfaction as he stepped towards her, knife raised, but Sam was already rolling away and cursing the dress by the time the blade came crashing down into the mats that covered the floor. She twisted her legs into Turghan's, sending him tumbling again and slashed at him with the knife, catching him on the arm and opening a nasty long wound down his forearm.

Turghan swore and gave Sam a look that suggested he had just been playing up until now. He launched himself at her from the semi-crouch he had caught himself in. One shoulder slammed into her sternum as if he was giving up all pretence of a knife fight and going for a brawl. She grabbed hold of him, instinctively afraid of being dropped to the ground and lost hold of her knife as they crashed into the matting on the floor. Sam was winded as Turghan's weight crashed down on her. He pinned her and pushed himself up slightly to give her a satisfied look. He savoured the moment and then punched her across the face with the fist that was gripping his knife so that the pommel smashed into her nose. Sam braced herself against his weight, but couldn't get enough leverage to throw him off. Her hands scrabbled for her knife, knowing it couldn't have fallen far. Turghan punched her again, backhanding her this time to whip her head the other way.

He paused and Sam heard a victorious little chuckle. However, there was something under Sam's hand. It was the knife and it was only a seconds work to grab hold of it and swipe desperately towards Turghan. She aimed high, knowing he wore chain mail and leather armour, but she didn't have time to look. She felt something tear across her face and cried out, but then there were no more blows. She slashed again at him, but he just slumped away from her blade.

She looked up at him. Turghan had dropped his knife and both hands were on his neck. Blood spurted from between his fingers and his eyes had rolled back in his head. Men rushed forwards from the sides of the yurt and Sam kicked to free herself. Turghan tumbled off her, blood bubbling in his throat and his limbs twitching. Sam felt sick and tried to sit up to gulp air into her lungs past the blood in her mouth and throat.

The men in the yurt ignored her as they rushed to their leader's side. There was alarmed shouting. Someone pressed a cloth to his throat, but Sam could already see that it was no good. Minutes passed, but eventually Turghan's limbs stilled and the men gave up with a sudden silence.

The woman Sam had stopped Turghan beating wailed and rushed over to the fallen man's side. She continued to wail and pressed her forehead against Turghan's shoulder. The other women, Nya included ran forward as well, all wailing. The men stood up from where they had been tending Turghan and there was an odd moment that Sam couldn't identify, like they were weighing each other up.

The younger man, the one who had tied Sam's wrists ineffectively, suddenly snapped an order. Three of the men seemed to consider it for a moment, but then bent and picked up Turghan's body to carry it from the yurt in silence. The wailing women took a moment to cover their faces and then went after them.

The younger man looked at Sam, but she could read nothing in his expression. Then he looked away and exited the yurt after the other men.

Sam let herself fall back onto the floor. The pain from the fight began to hit her. Her face was on fire and she began to gingerly probe at her injuries with trembling fingers. Her nose was bleeding and she couldn't decide if it had been broken or not at this stage. Turghan's blows had split her forehead and cheek open, but far worse was the ragged slice from the last swipe with the knife that had torn her face almost straight down her forehead, across the bridge of her nose and down along her cheek. It oozed blood, but Sam didn't have time to examine anything else as the blood from her nose bleed began to gather at the back of her throat and threatened to choke her. She rolled onto her side and spat blood onto the matting so that she could breath.

She needed to get out of here. As much as she wanted to lay on the ground and recover she had to get out. She pushed herself up, deciding that she must have cracked a rib at some point in the fight and staggered to something approximating upright. One of her eyes was swelling shut, but she focussed the other on the doorway to the yurt and made towards it.

She got as far as two steps beyond the doorway when a woman stopped her with a gentle touch on her shoulder. It was all it took to halt her.

'Back in,' the woman told her, not harshly, but with no tenderness in her voice. 'Or the men will make you and you can't fight anyone else today.'

'But,' Sam started, but the woman was already turning her back into the yurt. She walked over the stain left by Turghan and the smaller smears where she'd fallen and half collapsed onto the floor to lean against Turghan's throne. The woman unrolled a bundle along the matting and pulled a strip of cloth from it. She wiped at Sam's face, ignoring her ineffectual attempts to bat the woman's hands away.

The woman pulled a skin from a pocket, uncorked it and tipped it to Sam's lips. She squeezed a mouthful of a potent spirit into Sam's mouth and tilted her head back until she swallowed it. Sam coughed and spat half of the spirit and another clot of blood from her mouth.

'Drink,' the woman instructed, handing the skin to Sam. Sam looked at her with her good eye and began to protest again when the woman reached for a bone needle and a thick black thread from the roll of cloth.

'No, just let me go. My people can treat me.'

'Chinua has ordered that you be treated,' the woman said simply. 'Drink.' She threaded the needle.

'I don't need your treatment,' Sam insisted.

'Drink,' the woman repeated, forcing the skin up toward Sam's mouth.

She did as she was told, swallowing two small mouthfuls of the spirit and coughing enough in the process to be sure that she'd cracked a rib.

'Now,' the woman told her, 'hold still.'

She brought the threaded needle up and began to pull the edges of the wound on Sam's face together. Sam felt the fire of the spirit flood through her system and make her woozy, but she still cried out when the woman pushed the needle through the skin. She bit it back, and clenched her hands into fists.

She didn't cry out for any of the other stitches, but she did wonder how good the best plastic surgeon back on earth was.

The woman finished with her face and looked over her again, lifting Sam's arm to examine her side and tut at the injury. 'That is shallow, it will heal,' she told her, her tone business like, before she rolled away her gear and stood up. Outside the yurt Sam heard shouting and turned her head sluggishly at the noise. Horses whinnied and swords clashed not far from the yurt.

Someone burst in, a man, who looked at the woman and Sam. He nodded to the woman, who pulled the veil across her face and scurried from the yurt. Sam tried to sit up from her slump against the throne, but whether it was the pain or the spirit she was beyond caring. The man had a knife in his hand and he advanced on her, his intentions unclear. He got about half way across the yurt before the young man from before appeared again in the doorway.

'Qadan,' he called in a low voice. 'Leave her.'

'Chinua,' Qadan began to protest.

'Leave her,' Chinua repeated. He gestured towards Sam and two women hurried into the yurt. Qadan turned with a snort and stormed through the doorway past the younger man.

'Take her to my yurt,' Chinua told the two women, who nodded behind their veils. 'Tell Nya and Chotan to care for her.'

The two women pulled Sam up between them and did as they were instructed. The camp was a confusing mass of moving people and horses, Sam couldn't properly focus on any details, but the journey was over quickly as the women delivered her into the cloying warmth of another yurt. The two women inside looked up when they arrived, and Nya yelped quietly, but bit it back. Chotan looked horrified at first, but she quickly led Sam to one of the beds within the yurt and helped lower her to the wool mattress. The other women left the yurt and Chotan turned from Sam on the bed and returned to the fire with Nya. Sam rolled herself onto the side without the cracked rib, which meant she was facing away from the centre of the yurt. She clenched a fist into the blanket she was lying on and listened to the shouting and noise ongoing around the camp.

After a time, she dozed lightly, despite the pain. She woke and stirred slightly when someone else arrived in the yurt, but then she dozed again.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of SG1 and Mughal looked at the camp that Carter and Abu's tracks led into.

Teal'c gestured towards it, 'The tracks lead directly there.'

'Who owns the place?' Jack asked.

'An enemy. A man who kills for pleasure. This is very bad,' Mughal explained.

'Well then we will go and get her tonight,' Jack went on, still watching the camp. It was not as brightly coloured as Mughal's camp, or as peaceful. He could see men riding around on horseback and scurrying figures. They seemed to be in some kind of state of alarm.

'If we attack, there will be war. Turghan is allied with twenty two clans. When he fights, he takes no prisoners,' Mughal said.

'You mean they'd kill all of you?' Daniel clarified.

'Yes. If you will wait until morning, I will go and request a trade. He cannot refuse.'

'But what will happen to Dr. Carter tonight if we wait,' Teal'c asked.

'Turghan will partake in his newest purchase.'

'Oh, there's not a chance in hell,' Jack shifted slightly in his crouch, eyeing the camp again.

'In our land, if a man wants a women, she can say no,' Daniel explained.

'No one refuses Turghan and lives,' Mughal said, his voice heavy.

'Then we go now,' Jack said, pushing up from their hiding place.

They walked towards the entrance to the camp, leading their horses. A sentry yelled to them to stop, which they did, but any further conversation was interrupted by a band of horsed men galloping out of the camp. The man at the front of the band signalled for the riders behind him to stop.

'Mughal!' The young man called down from the horse he was riding, 'Why do you skulk around my camp like a scavenger?'

'We seek trade with Turghan,' Mughal answered, his voice defiant.

Several of the warriors sneered, but the young man merely regarded them calmly before he answered.

'Turghan is dead. The demon woman killed him. The woman your son brought into our camp. There will be no trade, only vengeance.'

Mughal bowed his head slightly, recovering quickly from the surprise of the news, 'Allow me to offer what I can to repair the damage between our tribes. We can take the demon woman from you now, as a start.'

Several of the men around the band laughed Mughal's offer, but the young man leading them remained calm. His face was still impassive when he spoke to Mughal, 'Run back to your tribe old man. Arm yourselves and hide your women and children. We seek revenge on those who sent that woman amongst us, not a bloodbath.'

'Wait,' Daniel stepped in front of them. 'The woman is with us. She is of our tribe,' he gestured hurriedly between him, Jack and Teal'c. 'He was not Abu's to trade and he did not know of her power. It is not his, or Mughal's or their people's fault. We are from far far away. Let us take this demon woman from you and we'll go away. We will pay whatever you want in blood money and then you will never have to see us or the demon woman again.'

The young man glared at Daniel, 'You seek to appease my honour with gold and horses? My father's honour must be avenged by those who brought destruction upon him. These brought her into our camp and they must pay for it.'

He pulled the reins on his horse and started walking away from them with a backwards look towards Mughal. 'Run back to your tribe old man,' he repeated.

'Wait,' Jack called after them, 'we are not leaving without Carter.'

The young man shrugged, 'You are wanderers. I care not what you do.' He kicked his horse into a gallop with a harsh 'yah' and the large group of men around him followed suit, urging their own mounts into a gallop.

Mughal was already pulling himself onto his horse. 'I must warn my people. If you have others in your tribe that you can call upon, now might be the time, but I must return.'

'Go,' Jack told him.

Mughal nodded once and then kicked his own horse into a gallop.

They looked towards the camp and then Daniel and Teal'c looked towards Jack. He surveyed the large numbers of guards near the entrance and then nodded Daniel and Teal'c towards the woods. They ducked back out of sight and held an impromptu strategy meeting.

'We'll scout around the camp,' Jack told them. 'See if there's a weakness or someone we can trade with in the squirt's absence or someone who can tell us where Carter is. If we have to, we'll go back for reinforcements, but I'd rather not turn this into a war.'

Daniel and Teal'c both nodded. Teal'c took point and they began to skirt around the edges of what had been Turghan's camp. As they got closer to the edges of the yurts they could hear wailing from deeper within the camp.

Every gap they came to had a guard and before they'd got halfway round a shirtless young man, barely more than a boy, on horseback came across them. He had a bow in his hand, and an arrow pointed at them.

Jack brought his gun to bear on the youngster.

'Jack!' Daniel warned.

'Daniel,' Jack replied. 'He's pointing a weapon at us.'

'He's pointing a couple of bits of stick and string at us and you're pointing a semi-automatic at him.'

'And if he lets go of that bit of string he'll probably kill me.'

The boy looked wildly between the three of them, seeming uncertain. When Teal'c began to shift away from the other two he relaxed the bow and reached back on his saddle. Jack lifted his gun warily, but the boy merely brought a horn to his lips and blew a long note.

The boy began to ease away from them, steering his pony with his legs so that he could still hold the bow and the arrow, although they were currently pointing at the dirt.

'Let's get out of here,' Jack suggested, giving Daniel a directory pat on the upper arm to walk away from the edge of the camp the way they'd come. They'd only take a few steps before the way was blocked by a handful of men on horseback, bows ready. They glanced the other way, back towards the boy, but more men appeared on that side and they all had their bows drawn.

'What tribe are you?' One of the men called, looking down an arrow at them.

'We are travellers, from a long way away, from the Seas of Ogada,' Daniel explained, while Jack gradually shifted his gun higher and Teal'c did yet more subtle re-positioning to make them a more difficult target.

'Travellers who skulk around our camp?'

'We come seeking trade,' Daniel went on.

'There are no trade rights while the honour of our chief is in dispute. Though that retribution will be swift. Perhaps if you come back in two days our tribe will trade with yours then.'

'We will be gone from here by then. We must trade today or the opportunity will be lost,' Daniel went on. 'It is of great importance to us.'

The man who was speaking shrugged, 'If it is of great importance then it can wait two days.'

'No, you have one of our tribe. She was traded by one who did not own her and who had no right to trade her. We will pay highly for her return to us. She is a chieftain amongst our people, a powerful warrior and a noble scholar. She must be returned to us before the sunsets or else our spirits will be angered,' Daniel gabbled, improvising desperately.

'Your superstitions mean nothing to us. Chinua took the demon woman under his protection and he is gone from the camp to seek vengeance for the death of Turghan. He is the one you need to trade with, but there will be no trade rights for two days.' The man seemed to be getting angry.

Daniel bowed his head slightly. 'We will return in two days then,' he said.

'Daniel?' Jack said in a low voice.

'Jack,' Daniel responded, in an equally low voice, 'You heard them.' Daniel turned and began to almost shove Jack away from the camp and between the line of men with their bows and fierce looking expressions.

Teal'c eyeballed the spokesman of the guards for a moment, but then followed them.

They walked away from the camp, watched by the guards and waited until they were out of earshot.

'Daniel,' Jack started as he began to lead them back towards the ponies Mughal had lent them. 'Tell me why we're walking away without Carter.'

'Because their laws mean that they won't even consider trading with us for two days and because the person we need to trade with won't be in the camp for two days, which gives us time to go back to the SGC and get enough reinforcements to demonstrate what a powerful tribe we are.'

'And what about Carter in these two days? You heard Mughal.'

'She's been placed under this 'Chinua's' protection and with their emphasis on ownership it is highly likely that she will be perfectly safe, as long as she keeps her head down and her mouth shut.'

'This is Carter we're talking about'

'Relatively safe then. Either way, we can't do anything at the moment.'

'We have weapons Daniel,' Jack went on, holding up his MP5.

'It would be a blood bath to open fire on those with such primitive armour and weapons,' Teal'c said.

They'd reached their horses once again. Jack looked unhappily at the camp for a long moment in silence, apparently weighing their options.

'Fine, we'll go back to earth, we'll get reinforcements and whatever these people might want in trade and we'll come back.'

Daniel looked relieved and reached for the reins on his horse.

'But if we don't get Carter back in trade we will open fire,' Jack said darkly. Reaching for his own horse and swinging his gun around his hip. 'So help me, if they....,' he started, but then went quiet.

They rode back in silence, pushing the horses and their own riding skills as they retraced their steps back towards Mughal's camp. They passed the force from Turghan's camp about two thirds of the way, changing their direction slightly to avoid them. They were trotting along almost leisurely and Jack was glad that at least Mughal would have time to get back to his own camp and prepare.

When they arrived at Mughal's camp the older man greeted them tersely. He wore leather and chain armour, carried a curved sword and around him the camp was a wild scene of desperate preparation as men saddled horses, fetched bows and herded children and veiled women to hiding places. He thanked them for the return of his horses, apologised for the loss of Carter once again and then hurried them from the camp so that he could continue preparing.

They wished Mughal luck in what appeared to be an inevitable confrontation with Turghan's camp and then hurried on their way back to the SGC.

XXXX

'Carter?' Nya called her name gently and Sam stirred from the uncomfortable doze she'd drifted into in the humid warmth of the yurt. She rolled over gently, wincing when she caught the gash in her side and her rib and looked at the girl in the gloom.

There was another two figures in the yurt as well, another young woman who was heavily pregnant and an older woman. Neither of them looked at Sam when she moved.

'How are your injuries?' Nya enquired.

'Sore,' Sam admitted, eventually, her mouth was dry and she struggled to get enough moisture in her mouth to speak, when she did she tasted dried blood.

'Why don't you change and join us for some food and tea,' Nya suggested, putting a small bundle of clothing onto the bed next to Sam. 'That dress is impractical.'

Sam couldn't help giving the girl a slight smile at that comment. She sat up on the edge of the bed carefully and began to pull the ruined dress off. Nya watched her for a minute, but then reached in to help with fussy fastenings that Sam was struggling with. Between them they got the outer dress off, and then the under layers. Nya giggled slightly as she struggled with the knots and looked up at Sam, 'I always wanted a dress like this, but right now I think I hate it.'

Sam looked at her and wondered how the girl could deal with the death of her father so well, but she didn't have the energy to ask her. Her face throbbed and pulsed as if the blood was trying to burst through the clots and stitches. Between them they eased the new clothes on over her stiff muscles. They were loose, plain coloured and largely made of wool and in comparison to the blue dress that she'd dropped onto the floor they were incredibly comfortable. She now wore a narrow sleeved woollen dress over trousers, both belted at the waist. The dress reached to her knees, but at least it had a slit in each side that meant she would be able to run if she had to. Nya had a head scarf as well, but she looked at the bruising and cuts on Sam's forehead and put it to one side with another gentle smile. She helped her slip leather boots onto her feet and laced them, tucking the bottoms of her trousers in with deft hands.

'Thank you,' Sam told her, already embarrassed by Nya's willingly servile attitude, as much as she appreciated the caring gestures.

'Stew and tea,' Nya said, gesturing to the cooking fire in the centre of the yurt. Sam stood up from the bed and followed her to sit carefully cross legged near the pot. The other women around the yurt ignored her completely and focussed resolutely on their own food, except the younger pregnant woman, who gave Sam a careful smile, which she returned gingerly.

Nya handed her some kind of stew that Carter sniffed and identified as lamb or mutton and some tea. She sipped the tea and was surprised to find it was salty, but swallowed it anyway because she was thirsty. The salt seeped into small cuts inside Sam's mouth where her teeth had caught on her cheeks or tongue, or where her gums had split, and it stung.

Nya took a bowl herself and rocked back on her heels while she spooned the hot food into her mouth. She didn't speak further to Sam, or look at her and the other women continued to ignore her studiously. She ate her stew and tried to work out whether or not they would stop her if she walked out.

She finished her stew and drained the tea, despite the unpleasant taste, and handed the dishes back to Nya. She got up from the floor of the yurt, nodded briefly to Nya.

'See ya,' she said and walked out of the door to the yurt.

Maybe it was the desire to get away or maybe it was the blows to the head, but she'd forgotten her head scarf and the first man to see her yelled at her. It wasn't too long before more men rushed over. They grabbed hold of Sam and, though she struggled against them, they dragged her back to the yurt she'd only just walked out of.

There was some shouting from the women in the yurt as the men hustled Sam back through the door and there one or two hands in places there shouldn't be hands as they forced her into the yurt. They let go of her, but Sam stood panting in the centre of the yurt and glared them.

'She will just run again,' Nya said simply, not meeting Sam's eye.

'Chinua wants her to remain,' one of the men spat. Nya shrugged, indicating that it wasn't her problem.

One of the men produced some rope, 'Well then, we'll stop her running.'

They tied her hands and feet to one of the beds and left, eager to get out of the yurt full of irritated women, who looked disgustedly at Sam and tutted.

'Don't mind them,' Nya said, sitting down on the bed by Sam. 'That's Hyurl, she's Turghan's first wife; that's Chotan, she's Turghan's second wife and my mother and that's Saikan, she is Chinua's wife.'

'Why won't you let me escape?' Sam muttered, feeling a little betrayed.

'Chinua will be angry and I love my brother,' she said simply.

Sam sighed and resigned herself to a miserable over night stay in another stinking yurt. At least she had a bed tonight, even if she was going to have to ask for Nya's assistance to go pee.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam looked up when there was shouting outside the yurt. She'd slept fitfully and woken frequently as injuries stiffened and hurt or there was noise in the camp outside the yurt. Breakfast had been more tea and then Sam had remained sitting tied to the bed while the other women in the yurt got on with household chores and spoke quietly.

The day dragged on. Sam had been trying to shift her wrists around in her bonds when she looked up at an even stranger noise than usual.

There was definitly cheering and other calls outside the yurt. Nya glanced at her, then pulled her veil across her face before she followed Chotan, Hyurl and Saikan from the yurt. Sam pulled at the ropes around her wrists again and sighed.

The shouting went on for quite some time, but eventually it shifted to sound more like a party than a mob on the verge of rampaging.

Chinua entered his yurt, banging the door back against the felt happily. There was a big grin on his face and he looked pleased with himself as he strode across to one of the beds and took a seat.

Saikan and Nya followed Chinua back in and he clapped his hands towards them.

'Bring me mutton and tea for now and airag for later.'

The two women did as they were instructed and as they pressed the food and drink into his hands he seemed to remember that Sam was there and looked across the yurt at her again. The self-satisfied look didn't leave his face, but he did glance up at his wife.

'Saikan, it is safe to return to the women's place now. All have pledged their loyalty to me. You should rest so that my son grows strong inside you. We have a busy day tomorrow.' Chinua placed his hand briefly on Saikan's belly and smiled to her.

Saikan nodded and pulled the veil across her blushing face before leaving the yurt.

Chinua spooned some of the stew into his mouth and looked intently at Sam over the edge of the bowl while he ate.

Eventually he sat the empty bowl down and Nya whisked it away. Chinua picked up his tea and sipped at it, still looking at Sam.

'So, demon women,' he started.

'Carter,' Sam interrupted him. 'I have a name. Carter.'

She expected anger from this young man who appeared to have risen to power in the wake of Turghan's death, but instead he looked amused.

'So, Carter,' he started again with deliberate care. 'I owe you a debt of gratitude for helping me achieve what is rightfully mine.' He waved his hand in a magnanimous gesture, 'I will not have you beaten for your insolence.'

'You set me up!' Sam snapped. 'You deliberately tied the rope around my wrists poorly and you deliberately stood with your knife within my reach. You wanted me to attack Turghan.'

Chinua smiled, 'Yes, but it was only so that I could secure what was mine. My father was Khan before Turghan murdered him. I am grateful to you for your part in securing my heritage.'

'Grateful enough to let me go? I could be dangerous in your camp. I could tell people things and I will continue to be insolent,' Sam warned him. 'Just let me go and you will never have to see me again.'

'Oh no,' Chinua replied. 'I can't let you go. I have harnessed the power of the demon woman. The men and women of this camp fear you and I am going to use that fear. You will be my talisman of power.'

'And if I attack you as I attacked Turghan?'

'You would not have the chance, but if you did, I would kill you. Now come,' Chinua's manner switched rapidly between dark threats and a much lighter tone. 'The night is young and as lively as the party is, we must sleep because we are moving tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?' Nya asked and Chinua nodded. 'We would have to move soon anyway, winter is coming and I want to put the memories of Turghan's time as far behind us as possible sister.'

Sam kept silent. She knew that she would have to escape tonight to have any hope of getting back to the Stargate, but she was still securely bound.

XXXX

When SG1, minus Sam, and with the three SGC personnel who were both military and able to ride a horse competently, returned to Mughal's camp it was in a state of extreme disarray. There were signs of the recent battle. The turf had been torn up all around the camp by hooves, at least one yurt had been set on fire and there was a line of bodies laid neatly together off to one side. It was a sobering sight and they approached the camp slowly.

It was Abu who spotted them and walked over. He no longer wore the embroidered silk clothing that he had when they had last seen him, nor the hat. Instead he wore leather armour and his head was bare. He bowed his head slightly. Everything about his manner and demeanour seemed to contrast his earlier self, but he still smiled at them.

'You have returned, with more men. You are welcome in my camp,' he told them.

'Thank you. Could we speak with your Father?' Daniel asked.

Abu's face hardened again, 'My father no longer lives. Chinua took his life in vengeance for Turghan's death. I am chief now.'

'We are sorry for your loss,' Daniel said automatically.

Abu bowed his head in acceptance, 'You seek to trade for Carter once again? I cannot leave my camp, but I will send my most loyal bondsman to guide you. Although he must stay out of sight of Chinua's camp. It would not be favourable for you if he were to be seen. I will lend you horses.'

'Thank you,' Jack told the boy.

'I am sure you will lead your people well,' Daniel added.

It was not long before they were all sitting astride the strong Mongol ponies and riding away from Abu's camp.

Kirick, the bondsman, rode in virtual silence, which was okay because most of the rest of them were concentrating on staying on their horses and keeping up with the pace he set. They pushed on and only rested when it was impossibly dark, which they all appreciated, as much as the riding made them sore.

They fired up the smokeless fuel blocks, heating their MREs and sharing them with Kirick, who initially chewed his own cheese and mutton, but eventually tried the beans and sausage Daniel offered him. He was grudgingly impressed, somewhere underneath the pride. He brought tea out from somewhere inside his clothing and made enough for everyone in the group. It was unexpectedly salty and Daniel couldn't help laughing slightly when Jack nearly spat it out in surprise.

Kirick slept on the ground without any blankets and with his arms pulled up into his clothing despite the significant chill in the air that had developed within the two days they'd been gone. The rest of them relied on the sleeping bags and tents they'd brought this time and Kirick watched them set up camp with open fascination.

They struck camp and moved on at dawn. Kirick chewed on more dried mutton as he rode and the rest of them snatched bites from cereal bars and other snacks.

They reached the area where Chinua's camp had been before lunch time. Jack looked ahead through the trees and knew that they should have seen the white of the yurts by now, should have seen outer guards, or herd animals at a distance. He didn't voice his concerns, but he caught Daniel looking at him with concern.

Their fears were realised when they reached where the camp had been and looked at the blank areas imprinted on the grass where the yurts had been. They pulled the horses up and looked around the area and then questioningly at Kirick.

'They have moved south,' Kirick explained. 'Winter is coming and all the tribes move to winter grazing in the south. We will be going ourselves soon.'

'Can we catch up with them? When will they have left?' Daniel asked quickly.

Teal'c dismounted and walked through the remnants of the camp. Kirick urged his horse forward in a slow walk and looked around.

'They left yesterday,' Teal'c concluded and Kirick nodded in agreement before he spoke, 'They will be moving slowly and driving the herds before them, their trail should be clear to follow. If we ride hard we could catch up with them in a day and a half.'

Jack wanted to say yes. He wanted to order everyone straight back into the saddle and after them, but he couldn't help glancing at the men he had and feeling how uncomfortable he already was after only two days of riding, never mind advocating four days in the saddle. Then there was the food front. They had enough to last the extra days, but it wouldn't be comfortable. They could make up the ground and carry more supplies if they had ATVs and they could send a UAV ahead of them to make sure they were heading exactly where they needed to. However, on the other hand that meant a day and a half riding back to the Stargate, time back on earth requisitioning what they needed and then setting off after the other tribe all over again. He didn't know which way would actually be quicker overall and there was no way he was leaving Carter with a Mongol tribe any longer than was strictly necessary.

XXXX

The morning that the tribe had struck camp there had been some indecision about what to do with Sam. Women and girls drove the carts laden with the dismantled yurts and all their other worldly possessions, along with any boys who were too young to ride on horseback all day. Men rode on horses and drove their herds of sheep, goats and yet more horses and ponies ahead of the great column of carts. Chinua didn't trust Sam on a cart, even if she was bound and gagged. Eventually he set her on a horse, custom be damned, and tied her hands securely to the saddle while he held onto the reins from his horse. She started off with the scarf pinned across her face, but after the first hour it had fallen loose and when Chinua noticed he had just shrugged and continued ignoring her. Sam looked around and behind them almost the entire time, fixing landmarks in her memory so that she could find her way back when she finally got away from them.

She managed to keep that up all morning and most of the afternoon, but as the day dragged on her muscles began to burn with the unfamiliar action of gripping the horses back with her thighs and it became harder to concentrate on the route that they were taking.

That night Chinua had shooed Chotan, Hyorle and Nya from his yurt. He informed them that it was his yurt for him and his wife and told them they could use his old yurt. Sam was taken into the first yurt though and Chinua had finally unbound her hands. He'd ordered Saikan to serve dinner to both of them before she ate her own and then laughed when Sam jumped up to help her.

'You are a contradiction. You protest if you are treated as a woman and if you are treated as a man. You don't know what you want!'

'What I want is to be treated as an equal,' Sam had snapped back at him as she helped pour the tea. Saikan gave her a dirty look, which didn't help Sam's mood. She ate her food in silence, oblivious to the gentle words that passed between Chinua and Saikan over dinner.

After dinner Chinua looked at Sam. He took hold of some ropes again and approached her.

'If I thought you wouldn't run, I wouldn't bind you. As it is, I don't trust you at all.'

Sam thought about resisting, but in the end the throbbing of her existing injuries put her off. She knew someone from earth would be chasing after her and getting killed trying to escape wouldn't do anyone any favours.

Chinua secured her to the frame of the bed. He patted her on the shoulder and left the yurt. Sam heard Saikan moving around for a while and then she left the yurt as well. Sam sighed to herself in the darkness. She slept after a while, stirred briefly when Chinua and Saikan returned to the yurt and then slept again.

The next morning they moved on again. Sam was tied to the saddle of the same horse and walked alongside Chinua. She concentrated on landmarks again, when she wasn't distracted by aching muscles from the riding she wasn't accustomed to.

'Are you struggling Carter?' Chinua asked after a while. He sounded almost genuinely concerned.

'My people do not ride horses to the extent yours do,' Sam explained.

'Yours is a poor people then.'

'No, we travel my other means. We have great carts that don't need horses for power,' Sam explained.

Chinua scoffed, 'How can a cart move without a horse!'

'It has an engine. There is a substance, gas, that is ignited in the engine to make power that drives the wheels round.'

Chinua frowned at her and seemed to think it over before shaking his head as if to dismiss the idea of a world without horses. 'Horses bring power. Do you go to war in these horseless carts?'

'Sometimes, we also go to war in great boats made of metal and we have ways of dropping weapons onto our enemies from a great distance away.'

'Now I know you are lying,' Chinua told her and Sam shrugged.

They walked in silence for a while, surrounded by the sound of the herds of goats and sheep that were nearby.

'There are stories, from the old world,' Chinua said after a while. 'From before the Gods brought us here. Some of our kin fell under the sway of the trinkets of foreigners. They built cities of stone and grew weak and rotten within the walls, but they also told stories of great machines that could launch balls of fire over city walls.' He looked at her as if she could confirm or deny those stories.

'I've heard stories of the old world, but I am not as knowledgeable as others within my tribe, they could tell you much more. I did hear that you used to have a very large empire.'

Chinua nodded, with a flash of pride, 'We were a great people once. Perhaps we will be great again.'

Sam remained quiet and shifted again in her saddle as they walked. Chinua looked up at the sky and the clouds. Sam copied him, wondering what he was seeing.

'There's a storm coming,' Chinua said warily.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack had ordered them southwards on the trail of Chinua's tribe. Kirick had offered to supplement their food by hunting along the way and Jack had decided that sore muscles from riding was worth the extra speed in getting Carter back.

They hadn't been going long when the banks of dark grey clouds had started to build overhead and Kirick had looked at them with concern.

'There's a storm coming,' he told them. 'It is early for winter, the seasons are changing quickly.'

Two hours after that they were forced to stop riding by the blizzard that engulfed them.

'We have to turn back while we can,' Major Walters shouted over the howling of the wind. 'We're not equipped for this.'

Kirick looked across at them from his horse. He'd wrapped his sleeves down over his hands and hunched his shoulders up in response to the cold, but was still exposed. Jack had to admit that his own hands were stiff on the reins and he was beginning to worry about exposure and hypothermia.

'We'll stop and make camp here.'

XXXX

They put the yurts up in the storm and Sam found her hands unbound as everybody was pressed into getting the wooden frames and felt walls up in the strong winds. Chinua was engrossed in ensuring that his people and their herds were safe and it was easy for Sam to sneak a packet of dried mutton and a tinderbox off one of the carts and slip away into the storm.

She knew she couldn't go far in the weather, but she only needed to go far enough that she wouldn't be found if someone was sent to look for her. Once she had put enough distance between herself and the camp she could find shelter and wait for the storm to pass. She hoped that the snowfall would sufficiently cover her tracks from anyone pursuing her, but even if it didn't she hoped that it would be a long time before anyone noticed she was missing. It was difficult to navigate in the storm, but the carts had dug deep tracks into the ground and Sam focussed on following them. Her boots provided poor traction on the wet grass that was rapidly turning into mud and she missed her combat boots. The dress, trousers and waistcoat were cumbersome and flapped around her legs, but at least they were warm, though Sam had to walk with her arms wrapped tightly around herself to stop her clothing flapping around quite so much. She also had to shift her grip frequently so that she could shove her hands into her armpits alternately to protect them from the cold. She even pulled the hated scarf across her face, though the wind still found it's way through and the healing wounds on her face ached and throbbed painfully.

At one point she skidded in a slick of mud and put her knee into a pile of horse manure left along the way. She had to put her hands out to catch herself and they both ended up covered in mud as well. Her clothing began to get heavier as the wool soaked up the moisture from the wet snowflakes melting on her shoulders. She began to feel the wind and realised that as much as she might want to shelter from the storm, if she stopped she was going to get very cold, very quickly. She had a tinderbox, but she'd need to find dry wood somewhere and she didn't even have a knife to open fallen logs up. Still, she couldn't go back.

She'd been walking for about two hours when another track from a cart went across the one Sam had been following. She searched around on the ground, but it was a confusion of wheel ruts and horses hooves. One tribe had gone across the tracks of another, but Sam couldn't discern which was which in the mud and the snow and she had a fifty-fifty chance of picking the right track heading northwards. Those odds weren't good enough and the visibility was too poor to look for landmarks. She began to scan the area around the muddy crossing of animals and carts in the hope of spotting somewhere she could shelter within sight of the tracks, where she could hopefully light a fire and then when the storm had passed she might enough landmarks to know where she was going.

She was concentrating so hard on staying on her feet, looking so intently into the storm for shelter and the wind was howling around her so strongly that she didn't hear Chinua approaching until he was right behind her. When she span to glare at him she nearly lost her footing.

'It's a nice day for a wander' he shouted from his horse.

Sam looked around for dogs, or other men who'd been sent out to hunt her down, but there weren't any visible; just Chinua looking at her with a faintly self-satisfied look.

'I knew you would run and your trail was easy to follow, even in the snow,' he told her. 'And now you need to come back to the camp, or you will die out here.'

'No,' Sam said, raising her voice over the howl of the wind. 'I'll find shelter. The storm will pass and tomorrow I will find my way back home.'

'Every tribe is moving south. The tracks criss cross each other repeatedly over the plains and I don't know where your tribe had their camp, but this will have forced them to move southwards as well.'

'There is a circle made of stone, standing on its side. If I get back there I will find my tribe.'

'Not in this you won't,' Chinua said. He swung himself down from his horse and Sam braced herself, but all he did was walk over to her and lead the mare so that she acted as a windbreak. 'You are cold, wet and exhausted,' Chinua told her. 'I would not expect any of my warriors to go on in this, even in dire need, and they are hardy.'

Sam realised she had been shivering for a while. The mare was a pleasantly warm bulk between them and the wind and Sam took the opportunity to try and warm both her hands up. They'd gone numb and she struggled to rub them together properly without sensation in them.

'Drink a mouthful of this,' Chinua told her, pulling a skin from inside his clothing and handing it to her, 'and then rub a small amount onto the skin of your hands. It'll warm you up and then you need to come back to the camp with me.' He pulled himself back onto his horse once he'd finished speaking.

Sam did as she was told, tasting the contents of the skin first to establish that it was filled with the same opaque white spirit the woman had given her when she'd stitched her face and then drank a mouthful before splashing a little into her hand and rubbing them together. The spirit did make her skin tingle and redden and she could flex her fingers again. Chinua held his hand out to her and slipped a foot from the stirrup on that side so that Sam could pull herself up behind him on the horse.

'Hold on,' he instructed her and she tentatively put her arms around his waist. She gripped hold of handfuls of his jacket as the horse surged into movement, turning sharply in the storm and heading back towards the camp.

When they got back, the camp was quiet. There were a few men on guard duty, but everyone else seemed to be sheltering within their yurts. Sam was stiff with cold by the time they arrived in the camp and she stumbled when she dropped to the ground from Chinua's horse. She struggled into the yurt and made a beeline for the fire to kneel next to it. Saikan was already moving and she shoved a cup of the hot salt tea into Sam's shaking hands. She spilt much of it, but sipped eagerly at the hot liquid. Chinua stomped in a few minutes later in a blast of cold air and accepted a cup of tea himself.

Sam could eventually shift her crouch next to the fire to sitting next to it and the shiver had nearly subsided by the time Saikan handed her a second cup of tea and some of the seemingly endless mutton stew.

Chinua ate and after he'd drained his dish, he abandoned his seat in a sudden flurry of movement across the yurt. Sam watched him cautiously as he pulled open one of the chests and rummaged around. After a minute of hunting he pulled an item of clothing out and threw it across in her direction, and followed it with a few other smaller items.

'Change Carter,' he ordered her harshly, 'The chattering of your teeth grates on my nerves.'

Sam reached out and pulled the items of clothing towards her. She moved slowly and sorely away from the fire and towards the bed that appeared to have become hers. She looked around, but Chinua had thrown himself onto his bed with a satisfied grunt and was beckoning Saikan towards him. Sam kept her back towards them and changed carefully. Her limbs were stiff, she struggled with the fastenings and the wet wool stuck to her skin, but eventually she wore clean and dry clothes. They were different clothes. There was a silk undershirt for starters that was much more comfortable against her skin compared to the wool. There were trousers again, darker this time and then a knee length double-breasted overcoat type garment that was lined thickly with fur and was comfortingly dry and warm. There was a sash that Sam wound around her waist as she had seen on others and finally there were thick socks and boots so rigid that Sam was unsure how anyone walked in them. The coat had extra long sleeves that seemed designed to fall over her hands, so Sam let them. She abandoned the sodden head scarf and shook her hair loose from her scalp. She shook out the wet clothing that Nya had given her and made an effort to fold it.

'Better,' Chinua concluded when Sam turned from the bed to resume soaking up heat from the fire. He was sprawled comfortably on his bed and Saikan was sitting at his side, both their hands were on her pregnant belly and for a moment they looked like any other young couple.

'She's dressed as a man,' Saikan pointed out to Chinua.

'Well I could hardly lend her your clothing, she's too tall and broad shouldered. Besides, if she's riding every day, she needs to be dressed to ride and she doesn't count as a woman, not really.'

Sam returned to her seat next to the fire to stretch out her legs against the heat. The lingering chill was being slowly banished, especially now that she had dry clothes.

'Do you mind wearing the clothes of a man Carter? It is forbidden,' Chinua asked, seemingly trying to prove a point to his wife.

'It was how this whole thing started,' Sam explained. 'I was with a group from my tribe, travellers and explorers. In our tribe we wear clothing designed for whatever we're trying to do. There is clothing that both men and women wear, though there are some things that only men wear and some that only women wear. When we bumped into the Shavadai my clothing offended them and Mughal had me change. Abu decided that I was worth trading for Nya and kidnapped me.'

Chinua yawned, 'Having known you for only a few days Carter, I have to say that whatever you're wearing is probably at the bottom of the list of offensive things about you. You somehow manage to be defiant by just breathing. You're as impressive as you are infuriating.'

'I'll take that as a compliment,' Sam said.

'Tradition dictates I should beat you for your insolence, but, apart from the fact that it wouldn't do any good, I have never beaten a woman yet and I don't intend to,' he said quietly, as if divulging a secret. He rested his hand against Saikan's belly again and smiled. 'I saw Turghan's wives, including my mother, after he'd beaten them and yes they were afraid and yes they would do what he said, but they didn't respect him. They made jokes about him behind his back and spat in his dinner. I assume that my wife is going to make jokes about me behind my back,' he added with a smile and Saikan blushed, 'but I trust I can eat my dinner without extra saliva.'

'As long as you keep your muddy boots off the bed,' Saikan teased.

The door opened and Nya eased herself in through a small a gap as possible to keep as much of the storm out as she could. She tugged the scarf from around her face and hurried over to the fire.

'Turghan's wives are filling the women's place with their bickering,' Nya explained as she stretched her hands to the warmth of the cooking fire.

'Ahh, they need to hurry up and find themselves new husbands,' Chinua said. 'Speaking of which, we were just discussing Abu,' he went on, with a slightly evil smile on his face that Sam recognised from having an older brother herself.

Nya, predictably, blushed and Chinua looked satisfied.

'We will find the Shavadai in the spring little sister and you can marry Abu,' Chinua said.

Nya looked up with elated surprise and Chinua gave her a magnanimous smile and a shrug. 'You're far too irritating to keep around for much longer.'

'Thank you brother,' Nya stammered.

Chinua waved his hand and slumped back onto his bed, 'I'm tired, hush your yammering woman.'

Nya smiled to herself and got up to make sure the door to the yurt was securely shut against the wind. Saikan climbed into bed next to her husband and Sam took this as her cue to head to bed as well. She was certainly tired enough and she had to admit that it was exceedingly pleasant to sleep without being tied up. She'd also transferred the tinderbox and the dried mutton from the dress and hidden them amongst her new clothing. She needed to do more preparation to make sure that next time she made a run for it she wasn't stopped by bad weather. However, for now the wool mattress was soft, the blankets were thick and the air in the yurt was cosy, if a little ripe.

XXXX

The SGC personnel spent a miserable night huddled in their tents. The ground was sufficiently cold and wet that it leached the heat from their bodies if they lay down, even on a sleeping mat, so they all resorted to folding the mats up and sleeping sitting up as much as possible. The wind howled around them and threatened to tear their tents apart and when Jack finally dozed a bit he dreamt that the tent was indeed pulled free from it's pegs and blown through the air. Eventually it landed and when they all crawled from the tent they found they'd landed on Carter and there was nothing left but her feet sticking out from under the tent.

By the time dawn turned the light seeping into the tents grey, Jack knew clearyly that he couldn't make them go on. When he stuck his head out of the tent the storm had calmed down, but it hadn't stopped. There was at least six inches of snow on the ground around the tents, more where it had drifted and his people were all cold, hungry, wet and exhausted. Jack looked at the snow covered tracks and then back in the direction of the Stargate.

He got up, checked the horses, who seemed unperturbed by the weather and noticed Kirick stirring from against the tree where he'd spent the night. The man shook the snow that had covered him and seemed as unconcerned as the horses by the weather.

'Teal'c,' Jack called as he returned to the tents. 'Could you trace our trail back to the Stargate from here?'

Teal'c looked around, considering it, 'I believe I could O'Neill.'

'Could you follow the trail we were following to catch up with Carter,'

Teal'c inclined his head again.

'Now, could you follow the trail back to the Stargate after another storm like the one we've just had?'

Teal'c looked around, weighing it up and shook his head, 'I believe the snow would cover the tracks too deeply to make progress possible at a practical speed.'

'Yeah,' Jack said thoughtfully, 'That's what I was worried about.'

He looked around the snow covered terrain and listened while every one else made breakfast and did the usual morning activities. He couldn't leave Carter behind, but then he couldn't put six other people through conditions he thought might well kill them. They could go back to the SGC. They could get proper equipment, ATVs, cross country skies, whatever they needed to do this safely.

XXXX

In the morning Sam looked mournfully across the snow littered landscape as they packed up the yurt and loaded the carts. There was a inch or two of snow covering everything and the trail was barely visible. She wondered if she would be able to find it at all when she made another attempt at escape. Though things did begin look up when Chinua didn't bind her hands when they rode again and he threw the reins of her horse to her.

'Run and I will shoot you,' he warned her, patting the unstrung bow hanging from his saddle.

Sam shrugged and rode next to him. She couldn't escape today anyway, she needed more supplies and she needed the storm to fully pass and melt some of the snow now covering their tracks. Chinua threw a hat to her as well, it was fur lined and warm, with flaps that could be fastened over her ears if necessary. There were many mutterings from men and women that saw Sam, but Chinua seemed proud of causing such controversy and rode with his head even higher, if possible.

The herds looked eager to be moving again after the snow and the men on horseback drove them forwards easily towards snow free ground further south. As the sun got up the animal's coats started to steam and it was a sight to behold.

Sam's legs were still horrendously sore and stiff, but she seemed to have reached some apex of pain and more riding couldn't seem to make it any worse. Chinua and Sam rode through his people at a trot, passing the column and carts and winding their way through the herds.

XXXX

Stepping through the event horizon was a relief, at least physically, as they moved from the cold and biting winter wind into the climate controlled stable environment of the Gateroom. The others were already walking forward and handing their weapons over, chattering about hot showers.

Jack looked up at General Hammond and gave a small apologetic shake of his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Chinua surveyed everything constantly as he rode and called occasional instructions to his men. Sam was impressed at how they seemed to obey such a young man and waited until they were sufficiently out of hearing to ask him why the men obeyed him so readily.

Chinua nodded, 'They remember my Father. I have been told I resemble him. He accorded great respect from his men in his own right and I hope to soon. My rule is tenuous until then as some of Turghan's old bondsmen may attempt to seize power, but I will be vigilant.'

Sam nodded, 'There is only a new chief when the old one dies? What's to stop people murdering each other?'

'The laws. There had to be reason for the dispute and a fair fight. While I suspect that Turghan murdered my father, he presented it as an accident and there were no witnesses, so he seized power as my Father's most loyal bondsman and the strongest among them. I had, in theory, no dispute with Turghan, but you defeated him in a fair fight and I had a claim as his adopted heir. One of Turghan's bondsmen would have legitimate reason to challenge my rule based merely on my age, but I suspect I will be safe until we have finished moving south.'

'Except the fight shouldn't have even happened.'

Chinua shrugged, 'I saw an opportunity. I would have preferred to avenge my Father's death by my own hand, but I suspect Turghan would have found some way of getting rid of me before he thought I could beat him in a fight.'

They rode in silence for a while and Sam revelled in the warmth of the sun across her shoulders after the foul weather. She continued to look around them, fixing landmarks in her mind and thus it was that she saw the boy galloping back to them on a pony.

'Chinua,' Sam told him, pointing the boy out. He turned his horse and galloped towards the boy, Sam with him.

'Raiders, Raiders,' the boy called as soon as they were in earshot.

Chinua nodded towards the rest of the camp and carried on in the direction the boy had come from, easing into a trot.

'Raiders?' Sam asked, following him.

'Some tribes use the time when other tribes are moving south to launch attacks on them in the hopes of catching them unawares. Turghan had the allegiances of twenty two tribes, but they will need to reaffirm that allegiance to me and until then we are vulnerable.'

'Ah,' Sam said simply. They trotted up to the ridge of hill the boy had come down and looked over it. There was another long line of carts not far away and a group of armoured and armed men milling around on horseback on the near side.

'They are preparing to attack,' Chinua stated. He turned his horse and trotted back towards their own camp. Most of the men were already riding out to meet them.

'Raiders?' asked one of them as they met Chinua halfway.

'Raiders,' he confirmed, 'but they are no match for us.' He accepted two quivers from one of his men and slung them on his horse, in easy reach from where he sat. They all turned, walking at the speed of their own carts, but a distance out and with their eyes on where the raiders would probably be coming from. Chinua and all the other men kept preparing as they walked, they tightened leather armour, strung bows and checked that swords were handy. The first arrows from the raiders thudded into the soil just short of the front edge of Chinua's men.

Chinua pulled a weapon from his saddle as the first heads of the raiders appeared over the crest of the hill. 'If I sent you back to the rest of our camp now you would be shot from your saddle,' he explained and handed the sword to Sam. 'You are not wearing armour; try to avoid the arrows and swords. Do you know how to use a sword?'

'Hold the end that isn't pointy,' Sam said sarcastically as she took the sword, 'but I'm not going to fight for you.'

Chinua shrugged, 'Fight for yourself then. Most people do when it comes down to it, or they fight for their wives and children.'

He turned his attention back to the impending battle. He raised his bow and it was the signal for everyone else to fall into formation. Battle lines were formed and the Raiders rode towards them, their own bows raised with arrows already drawn.

There were shouts from both sides Sam flung herself low against her horses neck as arrows shot over head or thumped down into the ground next to her. There were shouts of pain from amongst Chinua's men as they were hit and at least one person slumped low against their horse's neck, but they were already re-loading and firing again at the raiders, who were still advancing and firing as they did so. Sam saw a couple of bodies on the ground as they rode on and empty horses still trotting forwards with their companions. The leader of the raiders signalled a charge and the trot sped up to a gallop. Chinua responded in kind, better to run into the enemy than let him run into you. Sam's horse, born and bred in this life, demonstrated that it knew what to do better than she did and broke into a gallop with the rest of the line.

They clashed. Swords hacked and yet more arrows whizzed through the air from those not engaged in hand to hand fighting. This wasn't war as Sam knew it, but there were enough similarities and the key was keeping your head and not thinking about the imminent death. She gripped her sword and concentrated on not getting shot or hacked to bits as Chinua had suggested.

Someone came galloping towards her, sword raised above his head and a mad look in his eyes. Sam gripped her horse with her thighs and moved slightly, but the man came with her. She waited, already seeing where the man was planning on swiping at her from how he held his sword. It was all just patterns and physics. She ducked low under the blow aimed at taking her head off her shoulders and stabbed up into the man's armpit, sending the sword straight through and into a lung. She jerked the sword back from between his ribs just before she lost it and watched the man's horse carry him off into the melee as he slumped against it's neck. She saw someone else attack him, but was distracted by the thump of an arrow into the leather of her saddle. Her horse whinnied in fright and tried to bolt, but Sam reined it in before they'd charged too far across the melee. She snapped the shaft of the arrow and checked the saddle, but the arrow had barely penetrated the leather and had merely scratched the horses skin underneath. She had to use both hands to pull it out enough to stop it scratching any deeper and still the battle went on.

Someone else swiped a sword at her, catching her upper arm, but Sam was already swinging her sword around clumsily to deflect most of the force of the blow. Her attacker looked little more than a boy, but there was no lack of certainty in his eyes and Sam struggled to deflect and duck from his blows. Still, she had the longer arm and the height advantage and she swung at him with a vicious downward strike that partially severed his arm and shocked Sam. He didn't even cry out, he just gave her an incredibly dirty look at the mess that had been his sword arm. He continued to glare at her as he instinctively clutched his arm to his chest, bleeding heavily.

An arrow stabbed through the boy's throat and Sam looked to the source. Chinua rode towards her, his bow held low and another arrow already resting against the string as he controlled his horse with his legs.

'Kill cleanly,' he scolded her, his face grim. He pulled the bow up and for a second Sam thought he was aiming at her, but he loosed the arrow at someone beyond her, who fell in a strangled cry. 'Do your enemies the grace of a clean death.'

She scowled at him and shifted the sword in her grip. The handle felt sticky and Sam didn't look down at it, she knew that there was blood all over the handle and her hand. Chinua kicked his horse into a gallop and disappeared off into the melee of men and horses.

Sam felt vulnerable. She didn't know Chinua's men well enough to know who was enemy and who was friend. She didn't want to fight anyway, just defend herself, but it meant she couldn't tell who nearby might attack her. All she could do was hold her sword up and try and stay alive.

Eventually the sounds of the battle eased into groans from the wounded men and frightened whinnies from the injured horses. Sam's horse quivered beneath her and snorted. She patted it's neck and walked forward through the remains of the raiders force.

Chinua and several of his warriors had dismounted. They walked through the men on the ground, finishing off the wounded and retrieving broken and unbroken arrows with stoic faces. Some men had been sent to round up the riderless horses that had escaped and Sam could hear them calling to each other brightly as they worked to head off the panicked beasts. Sam stayed on her horse and surveyed the scene. The two lines of carts, theirs and those that belonged to the raiders wives and children were still moving and the herds beyond them. She wondered what happened now.

Chinua ordered some of the men around, pointed to some others and then climbed back onto his horse. He walked over to Sam and tossed her a scabbard, presumably for her sword, without a word. Others of the men had also remounted their horses and they began to trot towards the raider's carts, women and children with their swords drawn, but loose at their sides. Sam glanced around and then rode after them. She wasn't sure she wanted to witness whatever it was that they were about to do, but she sure as hell wasn't about to stand by and pretend she hadn't known something was going to happen.

The carts stopped as they approached and the warriors circled around them, bows drawn once agan as they searched the carts for signs of resistance. There wasn't any and Chinua eventually pumped his fist into the air gave a victorious shout. The others joined in and Sam watched the women on the carts pull their children closer to them. There was waving and directing and then the line of carts, as well as the herds of animals, began to move again, their direction altered to head towards their own peoples carts. The warriors rode through the carts, eyeing the different belongings and making crude comments to the women. Sam kept her mouth shut and rode alongside the column of carts. She wanted to protest. She wanted to tell the women that they weren't belongings and the men that they couldn't take them as belongings, but she was one lonely voice on a planet that thought otherwise. She also had to wonder what good it would do even if she could stop these men taking these women. How would those women then make it through the winter? How would they feed their children?

She knew she had to make her point in other ways, before she headed home of course. She fastened the scabbard that Chinua had passed her onto her saddle where she saw the warriors had slung theirs. She cleaned and then sheathed her sword before she joined the procession back to their carts. She glanced back at the bodies on the ground churned up with mud and snow. The last handful of warriors there were moving bodies, presumably stripping the dead, but they also seemed to be laying them out. Sam decided she didn't want to know what their funeral practices were and focussed once again on the carts. They rode slowly back to the main column and Chinua directed the new carts to follow on the existing ones, but distinctively separate. Presumably the spoils were yet to be divided and sorted. He rode off again, heading to do whatever else he needed to after shouting various orders, but for once Sam didn't care what he was up to. She continued to ride alongside the new carts and watched the women and children carefully. She got many weighted looks from the warriors who also lingered at Chinua's behest to stop people taking the spoils before it was due.

Sam noticed the aches and pains returning. The muscles that were already sore from the relentless riding made their presence felt and then there were a whole host of new muscle pains from wielding the sword and the cuts and bruises she'd sustained. There was a deep cut in her upper arm that reopened every time she moved that was concerning, but the ooze of blood was slow and she was hopeful it was already scabbing over. It could all wait.

Eventually Chinua signalled for them to stop. The original carts circled up and people began to unload their belongings and erect their yurts, just like the previous two evenings. The newly captured women and children remained on their carts, watching the circling warriors warily. Sam stayed with the carts and attracted frightened looks from those on them. She wondered if it was because she was with the warriors, whether it was her face, or if they'd worked out she was a women underneath the fur and silk.

After a while Chinua rode up from the camp. He looked at the assembled carts and the warriors who'd begun to gather, eager for their spoils of war. He made a small gesture that seemed to indicate that the warriors could begin picking out what they liked. They rode into the carts, some seeming to browse and some beelining straight for someone, or something that had taken their eye. Sam thought she might throw up.

It wasn't a free for all though. The warriors brought forward what, or who, they wanted and Chinua granted it or refused it. Those who were granted what they had selected rode away triumphant with their spoils while others returned to the carts to pick again. Sam rode through the scene slowly, watching carefully and trying to remember faces. She didn't want to see these women beaten and know they were being raped, but remembering them was the least she could do for her part in their downfall. She wondered whose son's and husband's she'd had a part in killing.

There was a scream that sounded above the general noise and everyone looked sharply towards it, Sam amongst them. There was a girl on a cart, she looked even younger than Nya and one of Chinua's warriors was attempting to pull her from the cart where she sat with her mother and siblings. The scream was from the girl and as Sam watched as her mother reached out to keep hold of the girl. Sam glanced towards Chinua, but he hadn't moved. She made a quick decision herself and hurried over to the cart and the girl.

'Leave her,' she told the man, suddenly aware just how much taller and stronger than her he was. He gave her a look of disbelief that she'd even spoken to him and at least paused in pulling the girl, though he didn't let go.

'I said leave her,' Sam repeated, putting as much menace into her voice as she could, which wasn't much. The man snarled, but Chinua had finally moved and he walked calmly over to their dispute.

'Let go of her Eureck,' he said calmly. The man gave Chinua a slightly disgusted look, but let go of the girl, who nearly fell to the ground, but managed to scramble back to her cart and the safety of her mother's arms.

'She's a woman,' Eureck protested, gesturing at Sam.

'Women don't kill men in a fair fight. Women don't wear the clothes of men. Women don't ride horses. Women don't go to war and slaughter their enemies. Carter does all those things, therefore Carter is not a woman.' Chinua looked at her, there was the hint of amusement in his eye that Sam wondered at. 'I don't know what Carter is, but a woman is not it.'

Eureck snorted and turned away. Sam wanted to protest that she was a woman, but she also really didn't want to get stoned or beaten, so she bit her tongue. Chinua looked directly at her, 'Carter is a warrior who gets to claim spoils like everyone else.'

Sam bowed her head at the acknowledgement, suddenly feeling like she had some kind of security beyond the mere whim of an adolescent in a position of power.

'And it appears you have yourself a wife Carter,' Chinua added, nodding towards the cart where the girl sat with her mother and siblings.

'What? But, I'm not taking a girl away from her mother!' Sam protested.

'Fair enough,' Chinua shrugged. 'You have a wife, a yurt, three children and a small herd of sheep and goats,' he said with a wave at the whole cart. He looked sternly at Sam and she bit back the protest that she didn't want a wife and three children because she thought that might have been too far, even for Chinua. Sam bowed her head in acknowledgement.

'Come on then,' she said with a nod of her head towards the woman. She led the way through the crowd of warriors still negotiating their spoils and towards their camp. She'd already picked up that there was a complex hierarchy to where different people pitched their yurts and was contemplating exactly how she could set up camp without upsetting this hierarchy when she saw Nya hurrying across the snow scattered ground towards her.

'Carter,' Nya said with a quick bow of her head. 'You have done well!' The girl seemed to be barely concealing her amusement behind the scarf across her face.

'Yeah yeah,' Carter said, 'Could you tell me where I should settle my new family?'

'This way,' Nya said brightly and led the way into the camp, past the less favoured families on the exterior of the camp and inwards. She directed them to a small area, close to Chinua's own yurt and finally Sam slid off the back of her horse. Her legs were exceptionally sore and threatened to give way when she stood, but there were still things to take care of.

'Now,' she said as an aside to Nya, cupping her hand in the hope that her new wife wouldn't see, 'Can you help me put up this yurt?'

Nya giggled and covered her mouth with both hands, but she nodded and gestured towards the cart, ordering Sam's new family to unload it.

'Oh, and what're your names?' Sam asked.

'Yeurle, Chotaic, Jemujin and Tachiun,' Yeurle explained, pointing to herself and then each of her children, a girl and two boys.

'I'm Carter,' Sam explained, 'And this is Nya.'

Yeurle looked at her long and hard and then bowed. Sam wondered if she had loved her husband and who he had been. Yeurle looked weathered and it was difficult to tell with her scarf across her face, but she looked to be only about Sam's age and the children seemed spread out in age from Chotaic in her teens to Tachiun who looked like he was only five or six.

'You're not afraid to talk to me? I thought talking outside was forbidden,' Sam checked with Nya, unsure of her current status.

'It is forbidden for women to speak to a man in public without being spoken too first, but you're not a man.'

'True,' Sam said with a sigh. 'I don't know what I am.'

The parts of the yurt were off the cart by now. Nya strode forward, beckoning to Sam, who quickly found herself having a crash course in yurt erecting. She began to file the whole experience under, 'no one is ever going to believe this in a million years,' as she unrolled the felt.

Once the yurt was up Yeorle and her children transferred the contents of the cart inside it with practised ease. Nya gave Sam the smallest of bows. 'I shall leave you to your family,' she said. She took the reins of Sam's horse and led it away to wherever horses went in the evening. That was something else that Sam needed to know, among other things. Riding back to the Stargate would be better than walking.

'Gee, thanks, Sam muttered as Nya left her to her new 'family.'

Sam steeled herself and stepped into the yurt. The matting had already been rolled out on the floor and the children were assembling the wooden frame beds around the edges while Yeurle was building up the fire in the central bit of the yurt under the covered hole in the roof. Sam hadn't up until now considered the construction of the yurts, but she took the time to marvel at the effective lattice frame and the thick felt that kept out the wind.

Yeorle kept one wary eye on Sam while she worked. All Sam wanted to do was sit down. She remembered to pull her boots off first, they were horrendous to walk in, but they had kept her feet warm while she'd been riding, and left them by the door before she strode across to the one bed that was already up and sat down on the wool mattress happily. She allowed herself to flop back onto the blankets and groan quietly at all her many aches and pains.

'We need water,' Yeorle said, interrupting Sam's moment of bliss. Sam cracked one eye to look at the woman, who was stood at the edge of the bed with an empty wooden bucket in her hand.

Sam groaned quietly and sat up wearily, 'Fine, I will come fetch some with you.'

Yeorle seemed to quail slightly, 'I was merely asking permission to fetch some.'

'You don't need my permission to fetch water,' Sam said more sharply than she intended, but she was tired, 'And if I help out it will be done quicker.'

She got up from the bed, picked up two empty buckets and went to pull her boots back on.

Yeorle looked terrified. 'Men don't carry water,' she whispered. 'It is women's work.'

'I'm not a man,' Sam explained. 'I am a woman, I just don't seem to count as one.'

If anything Yeorle looked even more scared.

'Let's just fetch some water, okay?' Sam asked. Yeorle nodded and followed after Sam with an empty bucket in each of her hands.

They fetched the water from the river and walked back to the yurt in silence. Sam had forgotten about the injury to her arm amongst all the other hurts, but carrying the water caused it to reopen and she felt the blood beginning to seep down her arm again. She didn't say anything until she'd set the buckets of water down inside the yurt and then tried to examine it through the cut through her sleeve.

'You are injured?' Yeorle enquired suddenly.

'Yeah, I don't think it's deep,' Sam asked, attention on her arm.

The Yeorle's hand was on her shoulder and was guiding her to sit on the bed.

'Let me look,' Yeorle insisted, her hands already undoing the fastenings on Sam's clothing. There were two thick layers of fur and a layer of silk between Sam's and Yeorle's hands to lessen the sensation, but Sam was still quickly aware that she was being groped by another woman. She batted Yeorle's hands away as gently as she could.

'I need to undo your deel to look at the wound properly' Yeorle protested.

Sam added the word 'deel' to her new vocabulary. 'I can undress myself,' she explained. She undid the upper buttons of the deel so that she could slide it off both shoulders and then unfastened the silk under shirt enough to slide her arm out. She kept the front of the shirt pulled across her chest, grateful for the double breasted design like the deel and offered her upper arm for Yeorle to examine.

'You really are a woman,' Yeorle said, sounding slightly surprised.

'The breasts really give it away,' Sam muttered, feeling slightly embarassed.

Yeorle turned her attention to Sam's upper arm, looking at the wound. She made a gentle tutting sound and poked at the injury.

'It is closing already, it doesn't need stitching, though try not to open it up again,' she concluded and then looked at Sam's face, 'and I can remove the stitches from your face in a couple more days.'

'Thank you,' Sam said, meaning it, and carefully slid her arm back into the sleeve of her shirt.

'I can sew this as well,' Yeorle went on, fingering the tear in the sleeves of Sam's shirt and deel. 'Unless you insist on doing that yourself as well.'

'Actually, I'm terrible at sewing. I'd really appreciate it if you could fix them for me.'

That seemed to please Yeorle, who smiled and patted Sam's knee, 'You're a curious creature Carter.'

'That seems to be the message I'm getting.'

'I will make dinner,' Yeorle got to her feet. 'I assume you want to help?'

'I'll chop, my cooking isn't something I'd inflict on anybody else.'

They cooked and ate. The two younger children stared silently at Sam over their food as if she was going to suddenly sprout an extra head or something. Sam smiled at them carefully, but they shot their gaze away.

There was a pounding at the door and Sam pulled her deel back over her shoulders as one of the boys, she wasn't sure which one, ran to open it. A young man stepped in and bowed briefly.

'Chinua wishes to see you,' he said.

Sam groaned and fastened her deel. 'Don't wait up,' she told Yeorle.

There was drinking in Chinua's yurt when Sam arrived and someone was playing a stringed instrument and singing.

'Carter,' Chinua called from across the room, waving a skin of airag at her. 'Drink!'

Sam accepted the skin with a smile and drank from it a little. The singing went on and Sam endeavoured to join in a little, which the warriors seemed to appreciate.

The airag was strong and the little she drank made her tipsy. She left as soon as she could and walked through the cool starlight night back to her yurt.

It was fuggy and comfortably warm in the yurt. Sam remembered to leave her boots by the door and frowned at the three beds that all seemed occupied. She walked over to one and found Chotaic in the bed. She nudged the girl awake.

'Go sleep with your mother,' she whispered to her.

Chotaic got out of bed and stumbled sleepily across the yurt. Sam collapsed onto the bed. It felt so good to lie down and she didn't want to even move as much as she would need to at least take her socks off, but then there was a quiet voice in the dark.

'Carter?' Yeorle asked, 'You do not wish to share my bed?'

'Mmhmm,' Sam said sleepily, 'No, I want my own bed.'

'But I am your wife,' Yeorle insisted.

'And I like my own bed,' Sam repeated. She rolled over on the mattress and found the blankets. 'Go back to sleep Yeorle.'


	6. Chapter 6

The gear crowded the gateroom and Jack had to sidestep one of the ATVs to get into the room fully. Daniel and Teal'c were standing by the bottom of the ramp and Jack joined them, with a slight nod.

They had a lot of gear. There was no way, this time, that they would return without Carter. They all wore cold weather clothing and they had enough equipment to survive for three weeks in the harshest conditions. They had ATVs that would go faster than horses and they'd drummed up even more personnel. SG3 were going to form a base camp by the gate, the same personnel as before, the ones who could handle both a horse and a gun were joining them again. Daniel had been doing excessive research into Mongol culture and there were rolls of silks and bags of spices and drugs that he assured them would be more than enough to get Carter back, ten times over apparently.

Jack fiddled with his gloves and his cap and listened to the Stargate begin to dial.

There was no way they weren't returning without Carter, whatever it took.

The dialling aborted and Jack looked up to the control room.

'The Stargate won't lock,' the Technician reported.

'Try again,' Jack called.

The Technician shook his head, 'It isn't anything on our end. It's their Stargate. It's as if it's been buried since last time.'

XXXX

'There genuinely is no problem on our end, there's nothing we can do. We'll try again tomorrow,' General Hammond said over the briefing room table. 'And every day.'

'And what happens to Carter in that time?' Jack asked.

'There's nothing else we can do,' General Hammond told him simply.

'The weather was turning,' Daniel added, 'and the tribes were migrating. Maybe we'll be able to dial successfully when the weather improves, maybe something temporary is blocking the event horizon.'

'That's why we'll try dialling every day,' General Hammond repeated. 'I'm declaring Captain Carter MIA.'

'She's not missing General, we know exactly where she is,' Jack said.

'Dismissed,' General Hammond told them, ignoring Jack's comment. 'I have to go write a letter to Captain Carter's Father.'

XXXX

'I'm just saying,' Sam said, 'that spirit everyone drinks, whatever it's called.' She swung the bucket out into the centre of the small water fall in the river to fill the bucket where the water flowed swiftest.

'Airag,' Yeorle interrupted as she took the full bucket from Sam and handed her another empty one.

'Airag. You can use it on wounds to prevent infections, or around wounds before you need to stitch them for the same reason. You could make it stronger by freezing it and taking the ice out.' She filled that bucket and handed it back to Yeorle, accepting the third empty bucket.

'Some of the men have done that. They were very ill after they drank it.'

'Yes, well,' Sam said, taking the last empty bucket and filling that one. She handed it to Yeorle and then stepped back out of the river in order to shake her wet feet out on the grass and put her boots back on. They were a little way from the camp, that was still standing. Chinua had ordered a day without movement in order for those with injuries to tend them properly. There were some women washing clothes in the river and there were even some children playing in the water. Sam didn't know how they didn't feel the cold. Her toes had already gone pale after only a few minutes in the water. She stood back up and grabbed two of the buckets she'd just filled. It was impossible not to look north back towards the hills they'd so recently passed between and the northern plains beyond where the Stargate was.

'C'mon Carter,' Yeorle chided gently, interrupting her day dreaming.

Sam walked after her, sighing quietly and wondering about escaping.

There was a shout from the river, a different kind of shout from the playing children; a shout that indicated panic.

Sam turned her head initially to see, but then dropped the buckets and ran towards the river as she saw two of the children dragging a very still third from the water.

'What happened?' She asked one of the children, already taking the still boy from them to carry him away from the waters edge.

'We were playing,' a girl sniffled, and coughed.

'Right,' Sam said simply, laying the boy gently down on the grass. Some other adults were already running over, but they stopped when they saw Sam.

She pressed her fingers to his neck and found a pulse. She felt triumphant at that and began to search for breath sounds. When she found none she checked his airway, but couldn't see any blockage. She started mouth to mouth.

'What is the demon doing?' Someone muttered to the side.

Sam blew two breaths, looking for the movement of the boys chest, but his ribs didn't rise. Something must be blocking his airway. She rolled him over, supporting him off the ground over one arm and delivered two slaps to his back.

Still he didn't move and someone else muttered, 'What dark magic is this?'

Sam frowned and slapped the boys back again, harder this time and he lurched in her arm. A mouthful of water dislodged and as it trickled out of his mouth the boy drew a deep gasp. Sam kept hold of him, her hand resting gently on his back. The boy coughed, inhaled again and opened his eyes, looking around frantically.

'Shh,' Sam soothed, guiding the boy round so that he would sit on the ground. 'Just breathe,' She advised him.

He did, remaining panicky until he'd managed to gulp down several deep lungfuls of air and cough his windpipe clear.

The adults who'd come to watch continued to mutter, but Sam ignored them.

The boy's father appeared, running over frantically and dropping to a crouch to check that his son was okay.

'He was choking on some water,' Sam explained. 'Make sure he keeps warm and keep an eye on him.'

'What did you do to my son, demon?' The man asked.

Sam took that as her cue to return to her buckets of water.

'You spilt a bit,' Yeorle told her, gesturing to the now only half full buckets on the turf. She looked unnerved by what happened.

Sam shrugged and retrieved the half full buckets.

It was only once they were back at the yurt that Yeorle spoke again.

'What was that?' She asked Sam. 'You brought a boy back to life.'

'He wasn't dead. Water had blocked his airway,' Sam explained, gesturing to her neck unconsciously. 'When I slapped him on the back it forced it out of the way so that he could breath again, that was all. He wasn't dead.'

Yeorle looked suspicious, but proceeded to pull a deel from a chest and throw it to Sam. This one wasn't fur lined and it looked designed for someone broader than Sam.

'Wear that and I will mend your clothing,' Yeorle declared.

'Thank you,' Sam replied. She changed quickly and tossed the torn deel and shirt to Yeorle, who slung them over her arm, gathered what was presumably her sewing kit and left for the women's place with Chotaic.

Sam stretched and enjoyed several peaceful moments within the deserted yurt. Then she set to rummaging through all of the stuff in the yurt that was now, technically at least, hers. She found a knife in one of the chests, that she took and a length of rope that she made a mental note of as well as usual household items.

Jemujin and Tachiun skidded into the yurt and ran straight over to a chest. Sam watched them, but they didn't seem to have noticed her. They pulled boys bows from the chest, scrabbling in excitement and ran out again.

Sam followed them.

There were a group of boys on the edge of the camp, Jemujin and Tachiun amongst them, and a couple of the warriors seemed to be delivering an archery lesson to the younger ones while the older ones practised.

Sam watched Jemujin with his bow and had to admit that she was impressed with all the boys' skill levels. She had sudden romantic notions of hunting for her own food when she set off back home and then returned to the yurt.

There were more dark mutterings about the 'demon' as Sam walked through the camp, but she did note that she'd lost the 'woman' part of the name already. She found another boys bow in the chest and some arrows and took them. The bow wasn't one of the impressive double recurve bows that the warriors used, but Sam knew she'd need to build up to using one of those. She walked away from the camp, across the river and a short way into the patch of woodland beyond the river, desiring the privacy of the trees.

There was something comfortingly familiar about being alone with something to work out. Sam solved problems. Admittedly most of her experience had revolved around problems that used numbers and complicated theories, but at the end of the day firing a bow accurately was mostly physics and Sam knew physics. She'd watched the boys practising for long enough to have a starting point and as the sun crept up the sky Sam fired arrow after arrow ahead of her into the woodlands, stopping to retrieve them every half dozen or so and to stretch out her muscles. She was still sore, the wound on her bicep throbbed and protested against the exercise, but her mind revelled in it so Sam pushed on.

She heard a noise in the woods and wasn't surprised when Chinua walked in on horse back with an amused look on his face. He dismounted nearby and tethered his horse to a tree before wandering over to her. Sam fiddled with one of the arrows, examining the head.

'I am assuming your people do not fight with bows as much as we do either,' he said.

'No, we have different weapons,' she said.

Chinua nodded, 'but you are here and it is a valuable skill.' He held out his hand for her bow and Sam handed it to him, for him to turn it over.

'This bow will do to practice with, I will give you a better bow when your skill develops.'

'Thank you,' Sam said with a nod, already adding the better bow it to her mental arsenal of things she'd pack and run north with as soon as she could. She felt a lurch in her stomach as she realised she didn't know what would happen to Yeorle and her children when she left. She would need to work that out as well.

'A good man can shoot another man through the throat at great distance. Accuracy is the key,' Chinua advised. 'Good boiled leather might stop the arrow, but most doesn't.'

Sam frowned, 'What about metal armour? Turghan wore chainmail.'

'It is rare and valuable, we have the ore, but we cannot make metal that can be worked so finely and must trade for it, it's expensive.'

'But you can make arrowheads and swords?'

Chinua nodded.

'What about an armour made of many flat plates? It wouldn't need to be worked so finely.'

'I'm not a sword smith. Go see Thursar with your suggestions, he can tell you if they will work.'

Sam nodded, poking the arrow head again.

'You brought a boy back to life,' Chinua said, obviously getting to what he really wanted to talk about.

'He wasn't dead,' Sam said. 'He had breathed in some water that had blocked his windpipe. I just dislodged it. When I slapped him on the back the force was enough to shift the water, that was all.'

Chinua nodded, 'Still, many think you worked magic on the boy.'

Sam shrugged, 'I didn't.'

'Let me see you fire,' Chinua said, handing the bow back to her. Sam took it and nocked an arrow. She felt self conscious, but drew and fired it, sending the arrow deep into the trunk of the tree she'd been using as a target.

'Good,' Chinua said, 'shift your hand a little here, and here. It might feel a little awkward, but it will be better.'

Sam did as she was told and fired again with another arrow and then looked at Chinua, who nodded, 'I will leave you to your practice.'

XXXX

They moved south for several more days until they reached a wide plain. Sam rode next to Chinua most of the way and chatted with him. She told him about cars, physics, democracy, schools, medicine and Chinua told her about their history since the Goa'uld left and great tales of warriors in their past.

After many days of riding Chinua signalled for them to stop and informed them that they would make a longer term camp there. Sam garnered from overheard discussions that this was where they usually came for the winter and the tribe were happy about being back there. The wind still blew coldly and there would be snow in the deeper winter, but there wouldn't be any for now. She wondered what state the area around the Stargate was in.

Sam set up her yurt, learnt about herding sheep and goats, learnt about tending horses and some of the finest points of riding, established a strange balance between her and Yeorle which somehow worked, spent many hours sequestered with Thursar discussing metal working, practised with her bow and slowly gathered supplies so she could survive the long ride north into the harshest winter conditions. Yeorle removed the stitches from Sam's face, as promised, and Sam could feel the ugly twisted line of tight scar tissue when she frowned, or smiled. There weren't any mirrors, but she caught glances of her reflection in water and wondered if her team would even recognise her when she met up, especially as her hair accumulated dirt and dust that dulled the blonde. The tribe shunned washing as generally unnecessary. Sam washed as much as she could, but there were few places she could go that were truly private and after a while she got used to it.

After many days in the camp Chinua summoned her and informed her that they were riding out to another tribe to discuss trade and allegiances. She was to go with them. Someone handed her a set of the boiled leather armour they all wore and she gathered the weapons and supplies she already had.

They rode for three days and Sam actually enjoyed it. Her legs no longer ached at spending time in the saddle, her injuries were all healed and there was a certain exhilaration in the way the miles of steppe were eaten up by their horses' long gait. It wasn't quite like riding a motorbike, but it was thoroughly enjoyable nonetheless. The tribe they rode to sent an equal number of warriors to ride out to them in greeting and then escorted them into the camp. They dismounted inside the circle of yurts and their horses were led away. A man beckoned to Chinua's group to follow him and led them through the camp. This tribe was smaller than Chinua's, especially with the recent swelling of women and children from the unsuccessful raid and Chinua walked with his head high.

They left the majority of Chinua's men outside the leader's yurt, but he gestured Sam to come in with him. They handed their swords over to a man by the door and submitted to a search. Sam took Chinua's lead and was grateful for the leather armour that did an effective job of shielding her as the man patted her down with rough hands.

Again Sam followed Chinua's lead in the etiquette as he bowed to the leader of this tribe and then waited to be invited to sit down. The salted tea was brought out and Sam sipped at hers. It was growing on her, though she wasn't sure she would voluntarily drink it. She was beginning to really miss coffee and a good beer on a warm summers day.

'Chinua,' the leader said. 'I heard you had taken control after your adopted father's untimely death.'

'It was unfortunate Techiar. I can only hope to lead my people well.'

'Indeed,' Techiar said. 'I also heard you'd taken to travelling with a demon of great power. Someone who is neither man, nor woman, who stands still in the face of a charging enemy and can bring the dead back to life.'

Sam pulled her lips shut to prevent herself speaking.

'Yes,' Chinua said, clearly pleased that this new element of his reputation had spread already. He nodded to her, 'Carter is powerful.'

Techiar seemed taken aback by the presence within his yurt and Sam hazarded what she hoped was an encouraging smile at him.

'I do not want to discuss things with a demon present,' he said to Chinua a low voice.

Chinua nodded to him and then turned to Sam, 'Carter, wait outside with my other bondsmen.'

Sam nodded, but gave him her most disrespectful glare as well before she stood up and left the yurt, collecting her sword on the way out. The rest of the men who had come were sitting around outside and seats around the small clear area outside the yurt. Sam took a seat with them and glared around, muttering about Chinua and his great ideas.

Some of the other bondsmen looked nervous and one of them edged over to Sam.

'Don't curse us demon,' he asked.

'I'm not cursing you,' Sam said shortly. 'I'm muttering about your leader.'

The man edged away again and Sam kept her mouth shut.

After a while Chinua and Techiar emerged from the yurt.

'Come,' Techiar said to the Chinua's gathered bondsmen and Sam. 'Eat with us.'

He led the way to another, larger, yurt that seemed to act as a gathering place. There were already men there and women bent over cooking fires, their faces covered and their heads bowed. Someone was playing a stringed instrument and before long there was food being passed around and more of the ever present airag.

Sam walked over to one of the cooking fires and looked at the woman cooking over it. 'Could I have some food?' She asked, refusing to assume she would get some like the men.

The woman ducked her head further and handed Sam a bowl with shaking hands, keeping her face averted.

'I'm not a man,' Sam reassured her. 'There is nothing to fear.'

The woman still didn't look at her and Sam took her food and went to eat with the men, feeling fed up and powerless. Chinua patted the bench next to him, eager to show off his demon woman, but Sam ignored him and sat elsewhere in the room. She drank the airag as it was offered, enjoyed the music and fumed quietly.

After the food the music shifted to stories being told around the groups. It made sense in a culture that appeared not to have any writing. Daniel would have revelled in the stories and Sam missed him keenly. Chinua came and glared at her for a long moment. He then gestured to the outside of the yurt with a nod of his head and after a pause for Sam to indicate that it was because she wanted to, not because he had told her to, Sam did follow him.

'You're insolent,' Chinua said in the chill calm outside the yurt.

'Yes, you know that already,' Sam said.

'Still, you helped me achieve favourable trade agreements and treaties.'

'Any time,' Sam said flatly. She felt drunk and homesick.

Chinua looked at her, 'You're angry. Have our ways offended you again?'

Sam shook her head, 'Well, they do offend me, but I am getting used to them. I miss my tribe and my home. Everything is different.'

'I was not aware I was taking you from anything when I kept you. Women are always bought and sold. It is a hardship, but it is how it is. Men make the tribe, not women.'

'I'd like to see any tribe manage without women to bear their children, care for them, to cook and clean.'

'Our women are precious, many of our laws are to protect them. Once there were the old gods and they stole any woman who was beautiful. We could not function without our women, so we hid them.'

'The old gods have been gone a long time,' Sam told him. 'Yet your laws have not changed.'

Chinua remained silent, looking at the Techiar's camp that was largely silent, except for the ongoing celebration in the yurt behind them.

'I will let you return to your people in the spring,' Chinua said quietly after a while. 'When we travel north again.'

'I was hoping to go before then,' Sam confessed.

'It would be too dangerous,' Chinua said.

'And what about my wife and her children? They have been ripped from their tribe, but they have no one to return to or protect them.'

'I will ensure that one of my bondsmen marries your wife when you leave.'

'So she can return to being beaten for speaking or showing her face.'

'It is preferable to leaving her to starve,' Chinua said, his voice hard.

Sam kept quiet and after a minute, Chinua returned to the party. Sam waited a while, weighing up the danger and the winter. Could she wait for the spring?


	7. Chapter 7

Jack watched from the control room at today's attempt to dial the Mongol world. He watched the inner ring spin and each of the chevrons lock, hopeful that this time would be different somehow, but the gate failed to lock and the lights died from the chevrons.

'Colonel?' General Hammond asked, calling his attention back to the briefing that was about to start. He took his seat at the table where SG3 and the remaining members of his team were sat and looked towards the General.

'When we completed interviews of all the refugees you brought back from Chulak, ten of them identified the final four symbols the Goa'ulds used to escape through the Chulak Stargate. When we disregard the last one as point-of-origin,' he pressed the button on the computer to remove the point of origin and went on, 'that leaves three to work with. Captain Car...the computer model has thus far extrapolated only one set of symbols from the Abydos cartouche that contains these three glyphs.

'So, that's where we're going?'

'Yes, Colonel,' Hammond said.

He returned his attention to his notepad, doodling.

"In one hour, you will go through the Gate to the planet represented by these symbols. It has been designated P3X-797,' General Hammond went on.

Jack didn't notice the strange looks being exchanged between Lieutenant Johnson and Teal'c. He drew a stick figure on horseback.

'We sent an M.A.L.P. probe through thirty minutes ago. Atmosphere is breathable, no detectable radiation, temperature approximately 40 degrees Fahrenheit,' General Hammond reported.

Later, after one of the members of SG3 had tried to attack Teal'c and two others had crashed through the briefing room glass, Jack wondered whether he should have picked up on things before they got that far. He knew he was distracted, but he was damned if he was going to put Carter out of his mind. He glared out of the window in the control room at the Stargate and that was where Daniel found him.

'We'll get Sam back,' Daniel told him, in his best reassuring voice as he walked up and glanced out at the Stargate as well.

'We'll get someone back, but I don't think it will be the same Carter,' Jack said morosely.

'I think she might be tougher than you think,' Daniel said with a shrug. 'I never cease to be amazed at what people can come back from,' he went on with a meaningful look at Jack, who pretended that he hadn't seen it.

Jack stayed quiet and fidgeted.

'You made the right decision,' Daniel went on.

'Daniel,' Jack started and tried a calm inhale and exhale. 'You're pushing your luck.'

Daniel shrugged slowly, seemingly completely aware that he was indeed pushing his luck and that he was going to push it further, 'We couldn't have gone on and who knows, we might all have become trapped on the planet. And we will get her back, we will.'

'Daniel!' Jack snapped, 'Drop it. I don't know why you won't drop it!'

'Because you're churning yourself up with guilt and because I care about her,' he said.

'You care about her? What's that mean?' Jack stepped towards Daniel, grabbing the front of his BDU shirt.

'It means I care about her, she's my friend. Now let go!' Daniel said, pulling at his clothing.

'She's not yours to care about.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'I'm talking about Samantha. You just stay away from her, okay?'

'Okay. Okay, Jack. I think you should come with me to the infirmary, okay? Just let go of me and, let go of my...,' Daniel said, trying to struggle away, but ineffectively. Then Jack punched him, sending him falling back into some equipment.

Jack was briefly aware of someone yelling for security, but he was focussed on what he was doing, which was unleashing all of his guilt as anger upon Daniel.

Then there were arms around him, pulling him back and dragging him away to the infirmary.

XXXX

'So, we fasten it here and here and the metal plates over lap,' Sam explained, lifting the plates to demonstrate how they lay together in their fabric pouches. 'It will cause some restriction of the movement of your arms, but not much and the added protection is significant.' She finished buckling the armour onto the wool dummy she'd made and stepped back.

'Will it stop an arrow?' Chinua asked.

Sam nodded and waved to Thursar, who fired an arrow at the armour as planned. It rammed into the armour and stopped, shaft sticking out. Sam stepped forward and lifted up the plate, showing how the metal had cracked, but stopped the arrow from penetrating.

'Impressive,' Chinua said to both Sam and Thursar who had walked over, bow in hand. He looked pleased with his handiwork, somewhere underneath his perpetual scowl.

'It's relatively easy to repair as well. This stitching can be unpicked, the broken bit of armour removed and a new plate put in,' Sam went on, showing Chinua the line of neat stitches.

'You can make more?' Chinua looked at Thursar, who nodded.

'Not quickly, but I can make them.'

'Carter will assist you. I will have this set, but I would like armour for each of my officers,' Chinua said.

Thursar looked satisfied and he and Sam stepped forward to undo the straps to hand the armour to Chinua. Sam had a spring in her step when she walked back to her yurt. She'd enjoyed working out how to make the Mongol's metal into workable armour and she was pleased to think that she'd made war that little bit less dangerous for them.

As she ducked into her yurt Tachiun came dashing over to her. Sam swept him up into a hug and settled him onto her hip.

'Hello little man,' she said to him.

'Did Chinua like your armour?' Tachiun asked.

'He did. He wants more made so that his warriors will be the strongest on the steppe.'

Tachiun crowed and wriggled to be put down. Sam obliged, removed her boots and then took a seat.

'I take it you were successful,' Yeorle asked said.

'Very,' Sam said, happily accepting the tea. It was approaching dinner time and as she sipped at the tea, Jemujin returned from practising with his bow. He was growing like a weed as he rocketed towards puberty. He'd been afraid of Sam for a long time, but now he was beginning to make eye contact with her, which was something at least.

Chotaic slipped in last, the veil across her face and her head low. She walked over and knelt down next to her mother. Sam narrowed her eyes at her 'daughter,' who usually chattered constantly.

'Your scarf,' Yeorle chided, seeing Sam's look. Chotaic undid the scarf, but kept her head low. She looked incredibly sad.

'What's wrong?' Sam asked, genuinely concerned, but Chotaic only muttered something.

'It is that Kartuic,' Yeorle declared, receiving a vicious scowl from her daughter for it. 'Don't look at me like that girl, I was young once and I've seen how you shoot him looks. It's disgraceful.'

'You like this boy?' Sam asked, sipping at her tea.

Chotaic nodded.

'Yeorle, put some extra mutton in the pot. Tachiun run and tell Kartuic that Carter wants him over for dinner, go now.' Tachiun jumped up and ran out of the yurt as ordered.

'What're you doing?' Chotaic asked in an embarrassed hiss.

'I want to see if this boy is good enough for my daughter to court,' Sam said, aware that she sounded like her own Father and suddenly understanding his perspective on certain things like never before. 'Besides, I think it would be a good idea if you could actually talk to him before you made any other decisions.'

There were footsteps outside the yurt, but it wasn't Tachiun and there was the sound of the warning horn. Sam jumped up, handing her cup to Jemujin and already reaching for her armour, boots and weapons. She'd already forgotten Kartuic.

Every warrior in the camp was doing the same and it took Sam only minutes to get her horse saddled so that she was riding out in the direction of the horn. Her bow hung from a hook on her saddle and her sword was within easy reach. Sam had been practising with both relentlessly. She wouldn't have fought for Chinua, she wouldn't have fought for this tribe, but she fought because there were children and a teenage girl back there and she would fight to defend them and to stop Yeorle having yet another husband.

A boy was galloping back towards them on his horse, calling loudly, 'Raiders, raiders!' as he rode. He stopped at Chinua and told him what he'd seen, before riding on and into the safety of the camp. Chinua wore his new armour, presumably with a new plate already replacing the one that had been smashed in the testing.

It was different this time when the war band road out to meet the raiders. Chinua looked out for Sam almost as if she was a talisman and she gave him a nod to indicate that she was here. She had rarely reflected on how someone so young managed under such responsibility, but there were times that she saw the boy underneath the chief. That moment when he looked around for Sam was one of them, but then the warrior's face came back and Chinua was lifting his bow from it's hook on the saddle.

Sam still didn't have a man's bow. She had a boys bow, one that an adolescent might use, but a boys nonetheless, because a fully drawn double recurve bow was the equivalent of holding up a man on two fingertips. They'd spent a lifetime doing it and Sam had spent only weeks. Still, her accuracy was already second to none and she'd gained grudging respect from other warriors while practising. She lifted her bow when the others did, trotting forward on her horse and steering with her knees like the others, but didn't draw, knowing that the raiders wouldn't be within range yet.

She kept her head low as the men either side of her released their arrows, knowing that this meant they were in range of the raiders own bows. Sure enough she heard the hiss of arrows over head and past her and the thump and groan from men as they were hit. There were noises of pain and fear from horses and the sound of some riders and horses falling to the dirt. Their battle line readjusted, trotting on as Chinua's warriors drew back and released their second volley of arrows now. They were in range of Sam's bow now and she drew an arrow and reminded herself of why she was doing this before she released it. She didn't watch it's path, but reached for a second arrow and fired that as well.

They were getting close now and Chinua sounded a horn blast that signalled the beginning of the charge proper. Sam kicked her horse into a gallop and released another arrow at the line of warriors riding towards them. She waited until the last minute before returning her bow to it's hook and grabbing for her sword.

Then the two lines of horses smashed into each other and it all became a whirlwind of men, horses and violence. Sam hacked and stabbed viciously at the raiders as they came towards her and barely felt the blows she received.

She saw Chinua fall from his horse, an arrow sticking from his chest, but knew it couldn't have penetrated. Sure enough, by the time Sam reached him he was beginning to rise. She swiped at the man who was making a beeline for the fallen Chinua and the man's head snapped back from Carter's sword blow to his neck. She didn't look at the damage she'd done, but pulled her horse around. Chinua snapped the shaft of the arrow embedded in the armour and pulled himself back onto his horse with the merest of nods at Sam as they both rejoined the melee.

By the end of the battle, Sam had taken an arrow in the calf, gained another few gashes that would scar impressively and was slightly amazed to have survived. In the end, the raiders forces had routed and Chinua had sent men to hunt them down. She snapped the shaft of the arrow embedded in the muscle of her calf and received the nod from Chinua to join the wounded warriors riding back to the camp to be treated.

Once back in her yurt, she had Yeorle push the arrow through her calf as she gripped tight handfuls of the blanket on her bed. She persuaded Yeorle to apply the concentrated airag that Sam had made and then bind it up. She fingered the hole in her trousers and Yeorle tutted at the mending and looked relieved that Sam wasn't injured any worse.

She limped out of the yurt and towards the edge of the camp. She arrived at the edge while the spoils from the raiders were arriving at the camp. Word reached Sam that those who had chased down the routing raiders had discovered that they were merely a group from a much larger tribe, one that they couldn't take on with the numbers they had. Still, there were plenty of spoils from the dead for the warriors to go through and divide up.

Sam selected a horse whose rider had perished and took a man's bow from the pile of weapons stripped from the fallen. Chinua granted her both with a satisfied nod and Sam returned to her yurt, feeling exhausted.

XXXX

'For a planet with a UV radiation as high as this one is supposed to have, the plant life seems to be doing very well,' Commented Daniel.

'Many Stargate worlds were terra-formed by the Goa'ulds, centuries ago,' Teal'c commented.

'Let's take a quick look around the gate, before we move out to find SG-9,' Jack said, tugging his cap lower and leading the way.

They found Lieutenant Connor near the gate and he led them to the quarry where Captain Hansen was making the local populace slave in the high UV daylight, where upon Connor was captured again.

They found a local, worked out about the two terra-forming devices. Jack got captured by Hansen and managed to stop him, getting shot a bit in the process.

Both Hansen and Baker were shot a lot more and they took their bodies back to earth.

It didn't feel like a successful mission.


	8. Chapter 8

Chinua's wife went into labour two days after they successfully defeated the raiders. Chinua was banished from his own yurt and stood scowling and pacing outside. Sam brought him some of the salted tea and sat drinking her own while he paced and listened to the noises inside the yurt.

He jumped at the first scream and Sam gave him a look and beckoned to the bench she'd sat down on.

He looked like the last thing he wanted to do was sit down, but he did anyway.

'Saikan is strong,' Sam told him.

'Women die in childbirth,' he muttered.

'And many more survive it.'

'Why does she scream so?' He asked, wringing his hands.

'Because she's pushing something this big,' Sam held up her hands to indicate the size of a babies head, 'through a hole this big,' she readjusted her hands again.

'Why do women do it?' He asked, looking at Sam's hands.

'I've been assured that the rewards are worth it.'

'Perhaps you could assist them? You know a lot and you are a woman,' he said, looking for an edge.

'Woah, not about this,' Sam said, holding up her hands. 'The last time I was near the birth of a child I was the child in question.'

'What woman doesn't know about childbirth? I thought all women knew those things.'

'I know about other things. Your sons don't know how to fire a bow until their father teaches them. Girls learn their own things from their mothers.'

'I thought they just knew,' Chinua muttered.

'Nah, we just like you to think we know everything,' Sam teased.

Chinua hazarded a smile, but then Saikan screamed again and Chinua jumped to his feet and started pacing once more. Sam sighed and stretched her legs out in front of her.

It was a long wait, the sun set and still Saikan laboured. Chinua paced and Sam waited and watched the moon creep across the sky.

Eventually there was a different cry from the yurt, the wail of a child. Chinua, who had finally sat down, jumped up again and ran into the yurt. Sam didn't follow.

After a few minutes Chinua appeared in the doorway again with a small bundle in his arms.

'I have a son and Saikan is well!' he told Sam, his voice full of delight.

'Congratulations,' Sam told him.

The baby screamed and Chinua disappeared into the yurt again with a look of alarm on his face.

Sam smiled to herself and made her way back to her own yurt. Her injured leg was sore, but it was slowly getting better. Sam kept it obsessively clean, well, as much as she could with a puncture wound and limited resources.

Chinua declared the next day a day of celebration. More sheep were slaughtered to make massive amounts of stew and airag was handed around freely.

Sam drank and ate. She initially baulked at the absence of women, but she intentionally wandered past the women's place and heard music and raucaus laughter from within. She felt better and returned to the party she was allowed to take part in.

The songs had started when she returned and as the party dragged on Sam was pressured into providing a song. Chinua himself stood and refused to do anything else until she had shared a song from her tribe and land so far away.

Sam taught them 'one man went to mow' and even though she was sure they didn't know what mowing was, or why anyone would want to do it to a meadow, they sang. After a while she stopped singing and stood on the bench conducting them and nearly falling over with laughter at two dozen fully grown warriors saying 'woof' in between the increasingly lengthening verses.

Eventually people started to drift away and Sam realised her orchestra was disintegrating. She congratulated Chinua again, embracing him and slapping him on the back, before meandering back to her yurt.

She was fumbling with the door handle when she heard shouting somewhere nearby that sounded like it was nothing to do with the party.

Sam frowned and listened, turning when she heard a woman cry in pain. She abandoned the door to her yurt and strode between the yurts, listening and trying to sober up.

She heard another cry in pain and the sound of blows and located the yurt. She stormed in.

Qadan was stood over one of his wives, his fist already raised for another blow.

'No,' Sam said, wishing she hadn't drunk quite so much airag. Qadan glared at her, looking puzzled. He seemed to decide to ignore her and punched his wife again.

Sam was across the yurt in seconds and she punched him hard across the jaw. Qadan stumbled, but recovered and swung at her. Sam dodged the fist, grabbed the back of Qadan's jacket and dragged him out of his own yurt to throw him onto the frosted ground outside.

'You want to fight? Full of spirit and vim and vigour?' Sam spat at him. 'Why don't you fight someone who can defend themselves? Why don't you fight someone who is allowed to fight back?' She was nearly screeching and she could already hear footsteps hurrying over to them, quite probably to watch rather than intervene, but you never knew.

'Come on then! Attack ME!' Sam offered, holding her hands out to Qadan, who got up slowly from the ground and touched his hand to his nose. Sam hoped she'd made it bleed.

Chinua walked over as Qadan seemed to be building himself up to attack her. He signalled to them to hold it and looked at Sam, annoyance clear in his eyes.

'What is your dispute with this man?' He asked Sam.

'He was beating his wife up,' Sam said.

'But what has he done to you? Your dispute must be with him if you wish to fight him' Chinua explained.

'I dispute his face, he is as ugly as a goat's rear end!'

That got a laugh and Sam could feel the tension dissipating already.

'Why were you beating your wife Qadan?' Chinua asked.

'She was asleep when I came in. I wanted food,' Qadan muttered sullenly.

Chinua shook his head slowly, 'We will deal with this in the morning. When there is less airag around. Qadan, go to sleep. Orbai,' he called to Qadan's wife lurking fearfully in the doorway of the yurt, 'Go sleep in Carter's yurt tonight. This can all wait.' He turned away and Sam waited for Orbai to creep out of the yurt and over to her. She led the woman back to her yurt and stumbled inside. Yeorle and her children were asleep.

Sam made too much noise finding an extra blanket from a chest and trying to direct Orbai to take her bed. After a few noisy minutes Yeorle got up and made things simpler. She lit a candle and took a moment to make sympathetic noises over the state of Orbai's face before settling the woman down in Sam's bed. Then she directed Chotaic to go share the bed with her brothers, just for tonight and steered Sam into her bed, before climbing in herself and pulling the blanket over both of them. Sam was too drunk to protest properly, but she gave it a half hearted effort.

'I'll sleep on the floor.'

'No you won't,' Yeorle responded. 'Ooh your feet are cold.'

'Sorry,' Sam whispered. The bed was too small for both of them, so Sam was resting against Yeorle. She listened to the quiet sounds of sleep in her yurt and the buzz of the alcohol in her brain.

'Yeorle?' She asked the other woman in a low whisper.

'Mm?' Responded Yeorle, clearly nearly asleep.

'Do you think I did the right thing in stopping Qadan?' She muttered to Yeorle's shoulder blades.

Yeorle rolled onto her back and sighed quietly. 'Qadan will still beat Orbai when she returns home.'

'So I shouldn't have stopped him?'

'Orbai is young. She has not been married long and she does not know Qadan well. She will learn his ways.'

'She needs to take her licks? Is that it?'

Yeorle sighed again in the dark, but answered patiently. 'You do not know what it is like. Sometimes it is such a relief that you are not the one being hit that you forget that someone else is. While the laws say a man can beat a woman whenever he wants there is nothing we can do.'

'What if the laws were different?'

'You cannot get rid of the laws.'

'No, but maybe they can change,' Sam suggested.

Yeorle remained quiet in the darkness next to Sam. After a while she rolled onto her side again and then Sam fell asleep.

XXXX

The next day Chinua summoned them not long after the start of the day. Sam accompanied Orbai. Her head was sore from the airag and she was beginning to wonder if she'd made the biggest mistake of her stay with the Mongols.

Chinua directed them into his yurt. He sent Orbai to the women's place and Sam took a seat.

Qadan arrived next and he also sat down, looking unimpressed. Chinua's bondsmen strode in and took up silent seats around the room. Tea was made and handed out and things got gradually more tense.

Chinua cleared his throat and looked at Sam and then Qadan.

'Last night Carter entered Qadan's yurt and challenged him. If Qadan accepts this challenge there must be a fight.' He looked at Sam, 'Why do you challenge Qadan?'

'He was beating his wife without cause,' Sam said.

'That is not a legitimate dispute,' Chinua said simply.

'Then I challenge the whole tribe and the law that allows this to happen,' Sam said, since she was going down this road she might as well go whole hog.

'A man is not allowed to fight another man without legitimate cause, but a woman can be beaten without a man needing to give a reason and, worse, she has no right to defend herself.'

'They are part of our laws, we must uphold the laws.'

'Formalise it then,' Sam said, glaring at Chinua in what was becoming an increasingly personal argument. 'If a woman can be beaten, then a man must have a legitimate reason to beat her. It can't just be because he has lost his temper.'

That caused a murmuring around the yurt between the men.

'You are talking about changing our laws,' Chinua told her.

'It will make the laws stronger if people have to adhere to them, to justify following them. It will make your people stronger.'

'We will need to think about this. We are moving on tomorrow. We will discuss this from our new camp,' Chinua said. 'I would hear everyone's views, but it will be my decision.'

'Carter, your dispute with Qadan is not valid, there will be no fight.' Chinua said. 'Orbai will return home, but I will be displeased if she is beaten excessively Qadan.'

'You have no right to interfere in a man's own home,' Qadan spat and there were nods around the gathered men.

'Everyone is a member of my tribe, women included and I have a duty to protect. I will uphold and protect the laws, but there is much to think about.'

He slumped back in his chair. 'Go,' he told them.

Sam filed out of the yurt with the others, wondering if she really had jeopardised her place within the tribe and the fragile kind of exception she was to the rules.

She found Jemujin where he was practising relentlessly with his bow, as he did with every second of his spare time and joined him, using the new double recurve bow she'd acquired for the first time. It was heavy, as predicted and she couldn't draw it anywhere back near it's full power.

Jemujin looked at the bow with pure envy on his face.

'Would you like to try a shot?' Sam asked, holding out the bow. He looked nervous, but took the bow from her and nocked an arrow with slow and deliberate care. He couldn't draw it anywhere enough, but still seemed satisfied when he released the arrow. He handed the bow back to her.

'It will be a while before I have one of my own,' he said.

'It will be a while before I can use this in war,' Sam responded and got a smile for her efforts. 'I got another horse, she's yours,' She told him.

'Thank you Carter,' he said with a bow.

Sam shrugged, 'You ride better than I do.'

He smiled at the compliment and lifted his boys bow again. Sam took the cue to return to her own practice.

XXXX

Jack spent weeks in hospital and then much longer recuperating. SG3 went to P3X-562. They reported that there were a bunch of uninteresting blue crystals, but nothing useful.

When Jack returned to SG1 General Hammond had assigned someone else to his team, temporarily of course, but Jack was resolved to dislike him on principle.

XXXX

When they moved the camp, Jemujin rode on the horse Sam had given him. He rode next to her with a ramrod straight back and looked proud enough to burst. She knew that the death of his father must have been hard on him, plus everything else that came after with joining a new tribe, but he had never complained, at least not where Sam could hear him.

Tachiun looked heartbroken when he watched his brother on horseback so Sam swung the boy up behind her on the saddle and told him to hold on. She offered a ride to Chotaic as well, but the young woman shook her head and looked a little askance at the idea of mucking about on horses when there was a perfectly good cart to ride on. Tachiun enjoyed himself though, he gripped tight onto her deel at her waist and laughed as Sam first trotted and then broke into a full on gallop as soon as they were on the move. Jemujin kept up easily. He looked serious with the responsibility of having his own horse in contrast to Tachiun squealing with laughter behind Sam. She didn't look out for Chinua. She assumed he wouldn't want to talk to her.

'What's the sun?' Tachiun asked out of the blue behind Sam once they'd finished their headlong gallop and settling to a walk.

'The Sky Father put it there when he made the world,' Jemujin told his brother.

'It is a giant ball of gas a long way away. It only looks small because of the distance. It emits light and heat that gives us sunlight and keeps us warm,' Sam explained, not able to resist the physics lesson.

'Not very warm,' Tachiun complained, flapping his hands. Sam took a hand from the reins in order to slot the end of her sleeve over Tachiun's hands. The lad giggled slightly as she took hold of his cold hands in her warmer one.

'You're supposed to keep your sleeves over your hands, then they will stay warm.'

'But you told me to hold on tight, I can't do both!' Tachiun protested.

Sam noticed Jemujin looking past her and looked to see that Chinua was riding next to them.

'Jemujin, take your brother back to your mother for me,' Sam asked.

Jemujin rode closer in order to help Tachiun across from Sam's saddle onto his. 'Hold on,' he told him.

'I am holding on,' Tachiun protested.

'Hold on _properly_,' Jemujin said more harshly. Sam couldn't help smiling at their bickering. Chinua fell into step beside her and looked at the boys.

'I used to bicker with Nya when we were younger,' Chinua said.

'Yeah, I used to wind my older brother up mercilessly. I miss it sometimes,' Sam said.

Chinua nodded his head. 'I have been thinking about your suggestions,' he told her, clearly getting to the real reason for seeking her out. 'I can not change the laws about women covering their faces, not talking in front of men, being sold and traded, or taken as wives.'

'As much as I wish you would, I am not asking for that,' Sam said.

'I know,' Chinua sighed. 'How would it work?'

'Well, I have seen you make decisions about disputed ownership, about legitimate disputes before,' Sam explained, she'd been thinking about this all day. 'This could just be like this. If a man thinks his wife has done something that deserves a beating he can bring that before you, as chief. If you think she has done something that breaks on of your laws, then the man can beat her for it,' Sam gripped the reins in her hands at the words, and had to remind herself about progressing in small steps. 'But he must have a reason and a woman must have a right to have her voice heard. I know she won't be able to talk in public, but perhaps there could be another way. I just don't think anyone benefits when a man goes home and takes out his anger on his wife. He should go practise his archery or riding until he is no longer angry. There is a difference between beating and beating up.'

'Has a man ever beaten you Carter?' Chinua asked.

Sam shook her head, 'Never.'

Chinua nodded, 'I can not imagine anyone managing it and while you are frustrating, the world has not ended because of your actions.'

'I have been granted exception to some of your laws, that helps,' Sam said.

Chinua sighed, 'You always give me much to think about.'

'Sorry about that,' Sam teased.

Chinua smiled at her, 'Now, what were you telling your sons about the sun?'

'Ah yes, well it's actually a big ball of gas...'


	9. Chapter 9

They didn't move their camp far, just far enough to take advantage of some favourable grazing areas and some birch woodlands for making bows and arrows more easily. Sam was now a pro at yurt assembly and they had it up quickly, which was good because there was a wintry storm sweeping in again. The heavy flakes of snow had started to fall from the sky as Sam and Yeorle stamped the last of the pegs into the ground and they hurried into the shelter. Sam blew onto her hands and shook some circulation back into them before helping Yeorle and Chotaic to light the sheep dung fire that would banish the chill from the air in the yurt.

Before long the boys were drifting back in as if attracted by the smell of dinner and chattering about their exploits. Sam was pouring the tea when there was a knock at the door of the yurt. Tachiun ran to open it and an embarrassed looking Kartuic stepped in with his Father.

Sam welcomed them into her yurt and poured tea for them as well. Kartuic's father flinched at her doing a woman's job, but Sam ignored him.

'What can I help you with?' Sam asked.

'Kartuic is interested in courting your daughter,' his Father said, straight to the point.

Sam nodded, 'What is the process of courting anyway?'

'They would be betrothed for a season and then they will marry.'

Sam nodded, 'I agree to the betrothal. Though I'd like a word with Kartuic first, if you don't mind?'

Kartuic's father looked unhappy with this, but he did leave the yurt. Sam beckoned to Kartuic and stepped to the side of the yurt.

'Do you want to marry my daughter?'

He nodded earnestly.

Sam fixed him with a look, 'You must swear to me that you will never raise a hand to her.'

Kartuic looked confused.

'Chotaic will not be beaten by your hand. I will be gone before you are married, but I am powerful. You will not beat your wife, whatever she has done, whatever law she might have broken. There are other ways to resolve disagreements. Understand?'

Kartuic nodded and looked terrified.

'Now get out of here boy,' Sam told him and the young man left. She returned to her dinner.

'Does that meet your approval Chotaic?' Sam asked the girl, who'd kept her head studiously down.

'Yes, except the bit where you threatened him,' Chotaic complained, getting a look from her mother for it.

'No daughter of mine will be beaten,' Sam said simply.

XXXX

The next day Chinua summoned together all the men of the tribe to discuss the events that had occurred before the move. Qadan's nose had swelled since Sam had punched him and it was a lovely purple colour. Sam would have felt triumphant, except she hadn't seen Orbai recently.

Chinua outlined the nature of Sam's dispute again for all to hear. He made it clear that Sam's dispute with Qadan wasn't legitimate, but that they needed to settle Sam's dispute with the tribe first. He asked to speak to certain men around the tribe, older ones mostly, but including the Shaman and the bard.

Sam sat off to the side and fidgeted as the court carried on.

Eventually Chinua stood up to speak.

'I propose changing the laws. We all know the laws that, if broken, would require a woman to be beaten or executed. Those laws will remain unchanged,' he glanced at Sam for a fraction of second. 'However, I am bringing in a new law that makes it forbidden for a man to beat a woman outside of those laws already mentioned. Also a man must also bring his complaint with his wife before the chief before he beats her.'

There was a grumbling around the gathered men, but not much and Sam let out a sigh of relief.

'However, there is still the issue of the challenge. Carter made a challenge against Qadan before this new law existed. That challenge is not upheld. Carter is ordered to pay Qadan six sheep.'

Sam nodded, accepting the verdict and feeling quietly triumphant at the slight progress made. It was worth half a dozen sheep.

XXXX

The storm settled in over the next few days. Sam did her turn supervising the herds with the other men, but by and large most of the tribe remained inside and waited for the worst of the weather to pass.

When it did there was a foot of snow on the ground outside the circle of the camp and it didn't melt. It made travelling far beyond the camp impractical, but there was still plenty to be done nearby.

Sam learned how to select the best branches from the birch trees for bows and arrows. She worked with Tharsar on turning what ore they had to make more armour and arrow heads. She treated other's injuries with the purer airag and, more importantly, Yeorle passed on the advice and slowly the idea of 'disinfecting' crept into the camp's daily practice. She practised and trained with the men, drove wolves from their herds with deadly accurate arrows (Yeorle skinned one of the wolves and used the fur. Sam tried not to watch while she did it, which made the woman laugh) and always watched to the north for the sign that the weather was breaking.

XXXX

Watching the Stargate fail to dial P3X-593 became an increasingly miserable daily ritual for SG1 and this morning was no exception for Jack. He arrived at the briefing room early to watch and found Teal'c already waiting. They exchanged a silent look and the Jack wandered over to the glass as the gate started to dial.

'How're you doing Teal'c?' Jack asked.

'I am well O'Neill. However, I am to brief the team on a phenomenon I know very little about and a planet I know even less about. I think it will be a brief briefing.'

Jack frowned at him, suspecting a pun, but Teal'c's face was as stoic as ever.

'Yeah, we'll be off hunting those invisible birds before we know it,' Jack went on. He watched the sixth chevron lock and waited for the inevitable fail of the seventh one.

It didn't come. The Stargate engaged and Jack didn't need to hear the Technician's delighted voice over the PA; he was already running towards General Hammonds' office.

'General Hammond permission to....' Jack started.

'Yes, yes. Go!' General Hammond ordered him.

Half an hour later they sent the MALP through. It showed forest covered in a thin layer of snow, a very large fallen tree that seemed to have been recently dragged away from the Stargate and most importantly a group of people who appeared to be waiting nearby. They were gathered around a camp fire and one of them waved at the MALP.

An hour later SG1 and SG3, kitted out in all their cold weather gear, stepped through the Stargate to the Mongol world.

SG3 secured the gate, but SG1 made a beeline for the group of Mongols. One of them stepped forward to meet them and waved again as they cross the fifty yards or so from the DHD to them.

'Hi Guys,' Carter said brightly, pulling down the front of her coat and pushing her hat back so that they could see her face. It was impossible not to notice the scarring on it, but it seemed irrelevant compared to the broad grin she was also sporting.

Jack looked around the group of fierce looking men who were in return regarding them carefully without concealing his amusement.

'Sam!' Daniel said with open delight and then faltered slightly, 'It's good to see you.'

'You too.'

'We were worried about you,' Daniel went on.

'I was fine,' Carter said.

'I knew you would be,' Jack said and ignored the looks he got from Daniel, Teal'c and Carter, damn them all. He coughed slightly, 'Ready to go home?'

'Yes Sir, one minute,' She said and walked over to one of the horses. She took a bag and a bow from a horse and handed the reins to a serious looking boy standing holding another horse. After exchanging a few words with him she clapped him solidly on the shoulder and then turned from him to speak briefly to some of the other men in the group.

'Ready, Sir,' she declared eventually, slinging the bag up over her shoulder and tucking the bow under her arm.

'Let's go then,' Jack said, turning back to the gate.

'Who're they?' Daniel asked, looking at the men.

'Chinua sent them as an honour guard.'

'Whose Chinua?'

'The new leader who took over after I killed Turghan.'

'You really killed Turghan?' Daniel asked.

'_He_ started a fight with me.'

Daniel was stunned for a moment as he processed this. Jack smiled to himself and gestured to the DHD for Daniel to dial.

'Let's go boys,' Jack said to the SG3 marines who hadn't had to do anything.

'So, are women running the entire planet now Carter?' He couldn't resist asking.

'Not quite,' Carter said, 'but I think things will get better. Oh wait,' Carter turned and looked at the group of men who were standing watching silently.

'Hey, Kartuic!' She called. 'Remember what I said!'

'Who is Kartuic?' Teal'c asked, saving Jack the task of rising to the bait.

'My future son in law,' Carter explained. 'He's betrothed to my daughter.'

This caused another pause and Daniel stopped with his hand over the seventh symbol. He shook his head and pressed it.

'You gained a daughter?' Jack asked incredulously. 'You weren't gone _that_ long.'

'Yeah, I had a wife and two sons as well. Chinua is going to take my wife as his second wife. She's older than him, but he said that he could do with more wisdom around his yurt.'

There was yet more silence from them as the Stargate kawooshed. Jack entered the GDO code and shook his head.

'So, what did you guys get up to?' Sam asked.

'Jack turned into a caveman and got shot,' Daniel said.

Jack scowled, 'General Hammond tried to replace you, but they didn't last long.'

'We were about to embark on a hunt for creatures with the power of invisibility Captain Carter.'

'Oh, I can't wait,' Sam said as they stepped towards the event horizon.


End file.
